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simonrileysfavteacup · 2 months

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Simon From The Wiggles

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x wife!reader

Word Count: 632

Warnings: dad!simon, mom!reader, simon's first born son being named tommy after his brother, fluff

Summary: Coming home after a mission to his favourite people in the world, Simon experiences one of the best moments of his life.

(this is the guy being spoken about)

Simon had been off on a mission for a month or so, practically crawling to get back to you and your son, Tommy. The little bugger had just surpassed 10 months and he had began babbling. He was the most adorable thing and you both loved him to death. He was the light in the dark for Simon, much like you were the sun to his rain.

When he finally did step back into your home, he immediately heard giggles coming from the living room. Tommy’s sweet little giggles. His babbling too, echoing throughout your house. He stripped off his gear, leaving everything by the door, including his mask. Simon stepped into the living room in just his compression shirt and tactical pants, smiling at the sight of you sitting on the ground, holding Tommy on your lap.

The little boy’s eyes light up at the sight of his father, kicking his legs to get to him. Poor guy still doesn’t understand how walking works. Simon smiles, bending down to take the boy into his arms, tossing him up into the air and catching him again like a ball, just how he likes.

You stand up, pressing a kiss to Simon’s cheek, smiling. “Hi honey, welcome home.”

He grins, “Hi lovie. You both have fun withou’ me?”

“Lots,” you nod at Tommy, nudging him with your nose. “Ain’t that right, bubba?”

The little boy giggles and fills the house with his little babbles. The sight makes Simon’s heart flutter.

“Why don’t you two sit down, huh? I’m gonna go get started on dinner,” you kiss Tommy’s temple and Simon’s cheek.

You head into the kitchen, preparing dinner.

Simon sits down with Tommy, placing the little boy on his lap as he turns the tv volume back up.

There’s these 3 guys, in different coloured shirts–blue, purple, and red–singing, with a girl in a yellow dress, bow in her hair. They look Simon’s age. He chuckles. Tommy’s face lights up, squealing.

“Mi-mom!” The boy babbles.

Simon blinks. He does a double take. “What you sayin’, bubby?”

The boy giggles, still staring at the screen. He claps his hands, “Mi-mon!”

It’s more audible this time too. But Simon still hears what he heard before.

“Lovie! He said i’! He said his firs’ word! My name! Lovie!” he shouts.

You poke your head back into the living room. “Really?”

“Yeah! Say it agai’, bubby! Come on!” Simon’s voice is filled with excitement.

“Mi-mon! Mi-mon! Mi-mon!” Tommy claps and giggles at the top of his lungs.

“Damn it, bubby. You ruined the surprise,” you shake your head.

Simon furrows his brows in confusion. Why aren’t you excited like he is? Your first child just said his first word!

“Whadya mean, lovie? ‘his is amazin’!” Simon tosses his baby boy into the air. “My name!”

“He wasn’t referring to you, Si,” you bite your lip to hold back a giggle. “One of his favourite characters in that show is called Simon…he said his name 2 days ago…I was going to surprise you.”

“What? What show?” Simon remains confused.

“Simon…from…the wiggles…”

“‘M sorry, lovie, what the fuck did you jus’ say?”

“The red guy on the tv, that’s him…”

“The old guy? Tommy loves ‘im?”

“Mhm.”

The little boy in question is kicking to get back to the tv.

“I’m sorry, honey…I know you were super excited and you should still be! His first word was Simon! We can tell people it was for you!”

“Lil bugger,” Simon nudges his son. “Say it again.”

The boy giggles, not yet understanding his father.

“Si, it’s a good thing, right?” you smile.

“‘Course, lovie, he’s gonna be talkin’ soon, and he’ll be able to say daddy,” Simon tickles the boy. “Ain’t that right, Mi-mon?”

Tommy’s eyes light up. “Mi-mon!”

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hopefulonion · 1 year

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A few posts done for fun on Twitter! 😭✌️✨

Featuring Soap on a leash and would you love me if I was a worm?

#cod mw2 #mw2 #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #mwii #cod #soapghost #the worm designs arent mine but I really adore their wiggles I was inspired #ghost would definitely let johnny get away with some wild things I can feel it in my bones

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ghouljams · 11 months

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wearing fae könig and ghosts clothes cause it’s cold? Would they be possessive? Do they scent mark and just the sight of their loves in their clothes cause their instincts to go wild? Or do they just want to snuggle the hell out of their loves because the oversize clothes just looks so cute on them?

anyway have a lovely day!

*vibrating excitedly* thank you for the fluff prompt I'm gonna do fae!Ghost, but they both absolutely scent mark so if u want König I can do him too.

You steal Simon's shirt off the floor while he's in the shower. You spend a few minutes with your face pressed into it before you actually put it on, you don't think you could ever get enough of his scent. The shirt itself hits you mid thigh, and you take a very pleased moment to enjoy it before going to put a kettle on.

You're starting to get good at timing your mornings out, hearing the shower shut off as you stir a second sugar packet into Simon's mug. You grab the handle and make your way back to your bedroom just in time to see him coming out of the steamy en suite. Truly one of your favorite sights. You hum appreciatively as he scrubs his hair with one of your towels, letting your eyes trace over every well defined scar and muscle until they're resting on the low hang of the towel around his waist.

Every inch of him seems designed for power and skill, but the pink towels are yours. They speak to comfort and domesticity. You sometimes wonder if Simon ever had that before you. He takes to it like a starving man, grasping at every shred of comfort you offer him and devouring it no matter how small it may seem to you.

"I made you a cuppa," you tell him, dragging your eyes back to his face as he tugs the towel off his head. He glances at you as he tosses it onto the bed, then almost as quickly as the terrycloth hits the bed his eyes are on you again. They stick to his shirt, his gaze heavy on the oversized garment you're wearing.

Simon makes a noise you've never heard before. It's rough and throaty, but it rumbles pleasantly and hits something deep and affectionate in your chest. You hold out the tea you have for him and he wraps his fingers around your wrist to drag you close. His arms wrap around you, holding you against his chest as he presses his nose to your pulse and inhales. You try to hold the hot mug out of the way as he makes that rumbly noise again.

"Smell like me," he mumbles. You feel his mouth open, tasting the scent of you as he breathes deeply. You give a questioning hum and he holds you tighter, forcing a high squeak from you at the squeeze. "My sweet girl, better than I could've imagined." The way he says it makes your heart melt a little, so quiet and sincere, you dont think he means just his scent. You'll wear his shirts every day if it makes him this happy.

He rubs his cheek against yours, the scratch of his stubble making you laugh and try to squirm away from him. Simon doesn't let up, and you're restricted by the tea in your hand. The rumbling is getting warmer, you are getting warmer. You duck your head to press your nose against his neck in retaliation. He smells like woodsmoke and bourbon, and your favorite body wash. And you get it when he lifts you up to take you back to bed.

#they spill tea all over the bed but neither of them care #they just lay there and cuddle until Simon is scent drunk and Love can wiggle out of his hold #Simon learning he can purr and immediately cannot stop purring #Love is absolutely smitten with him and they have like just started dating here #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #reader x ghost #fae!Ghost

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stararch4ngelqueen · 8 months

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Like a Horror Movie

A minor Zombie Ghost drabble to christen this account 💀🧟‍♂️✨

Heavily based off that one quote I saw where someone said Zombie Ghost broke his own jaw so he wouldn’t hurt you. 🙃

—

Is that…?

Your own thoughts grew nearly impossible to register over the chaotic rumbling of helicopter blades nearly half a mile away waiting for you.

“Keep running!” You heard a man’s shouting far ahead of you, or behind you, his accent grown heavier from such amplified, horrified distress in a race against time to outrun the dead.

Where it would take you, you didn’t know, but above ground was safer than the badlands below your aching feet.

The cold rain didn’t help, you weren’t sure why. It mingled with the sweat on your skin, tasting like cloyed gasoline on your tongue as it drooped along your lips. You didn’t want to run, but you had to. Evac had been waiting for you, in a helicopter at the end of the field.

Darkness invaded the night, the moon herself shielding her own eyes with dense, tearful clouds, diluting spilled blood and gasoline down along the earth.

You heard the shouting amidst all the gunfire. The gangrenous stench permeating the darkened fields, the flattened weeds under your boots from endless running.

You didn’t want to run anymore, the distress of your windpipes burning with each breath of air. All the bullets you wasted on reckless gunfire towards the mindless corpses that chased after you like relentless athletes had long since vanished.

You couldn’t stop, you knew that. One goal was on your mind as you continued along, pushing your limits to fight, to survive.

You could only imagine a haven on the other side of this, waiting for you with open, protective arms, promising a safe life that consisted of late mornings waking up to tired, dreary multicolored eyes, as the life you once had burned bright behind you.

You could’ve sworn you had an extra magazine on yourself, a strange attempt to grasp hold of it left you gasping and turning around, instantly failing your mission once you saw a tall, hulking beast coming to an abrupt halt at least eight feet away.

Is that him…? You recognized that uniform, sleeves torn from pitiful attempts to block the bloodied, infected flanges that scratched against his skin before sinking their teeth in.

But, the mask.

It had to be him, the meat on his body still clung to his bones, the decaying process too early still to peel the skin off his face.

“Lass! The fuck are you doing?! Hurry!!” Your partner called to you, the only other survivor from your once strong bodied team.

It was him. There was no one else you knew that was like him.

But, why was he here?? He was supposed to have secured this evac sight. He was supposed to be waiting for you, with a rifle in hand and an outstretched palm, lifting you up onto the platform towards that shimmering haven you desired.

The picturesque of such a high hoped eternity vanished like the snuff of a candle light within a canopy.

The watercolor that made up his eyes had long since washed off its leather canvas, replaced by two pearls without their iridescent sheen, measly shielded by dark, heavy lids.

Oh, Simon.

The way he stared you down wasn’t like that of an undead beast, like in the movies. He didn’t groan, or growl or grunt. As in life, his syllables were silenced by choice, giving him an etch of humanity based off your memory of his personality.

Did you fight? Of course you did. You’d never go down that easily.

But you knew better than to believe he was still alive. Like a stalking beast preparing to pounce, a killer always waits, preparing to pounce at just the right chance.

You weren’t unsuspecting, but waiting. Your heart ringing in your ears, your tears indistinguishable from this odd, putrid acid rain.

You were waiting, because you couldn’t go on. Not like this. You couldn’t see yourself rushing towards that helicopter, towards a dark, dreary existence, towards a life that meant living in dreadful solitude.

Did you scream out? What did you yell? Where did they bite you first?

You simply dropped your pistol, your rifle hanging carelessly by your side. An open target with blinking red lights and white flags, one that even the undead variant of the man you loved wasn’t stupid enough to resist.

Did it hurt? What did you think last? I’m sorry, I wasn’t there to protect you, or stopped you. Stopped you from reaching this point.

But, where did he come from? Why did he chase you all the way here? Or was he waiting for you? Could he tell, or was did this disease render him absolutely starved?

You didn’t need to scream it, you just needed to stand and wait, unable to fight the flinch of his body bursting from his spot, thick mud sloshing under his boots as he ran towards his prize.

When his unlatched, severed jaw failed to make its mark, it didn’t matter. This undead version of the soldier you loved wasn’t the man you knew, yet his ever strong determination remained.

You would’ve closed your eyes, should’ve even, but you couldn’t. Despite your hard flinch, you refused to let your last memory be of darkness as hot, heavy top teeth attempted to sever the sinews of your neck. Humid, heavy fermented breath and blood dampened the fabric fabric protecting your clavicle once his head drops lower, the straps of your helmet proving too pitiful to protect you much longer.

Even in death, he would find a way to kill you. He could break open your rib cage to feast at your quick beating heart inside, and you’d let him, dying while knowing he held onto your heart one last time.

His hands grasped hold of your shoulders, his heavy, dead weight forcing you off your feet in seconds, your tense body preparing to meet the cold, muddy ground.

The world went quiet, the screaming of your teammate ceased, your eyes merely catching a glimpse of the stars peeking through the crying heavens as your lover prepares to eat you whole.

The warmth of cotton sheets remained ever so soothing against the skin along your bare back, a hint of detergent making a pitiful note in the layer of expensive cologne.

An expensive brand you had bought him for his birthday.

Your eyes opened to promptly gaze into the darkness of the night, greeted with muffled breeze beating along your bedroom windows.

“Simon—?” Your croaked, emotional tone rasped out into the warm, stuffy ambiance, your aware self processing the emotions your dream state simply refused.

Warm arms reinforced their hold along your waist underneath cashmere blankets, tattooed skin nestled snug against your back. Usually, you’d hear his patterned breathing as during rare chances you had woken up while he slept, but this time, he merely waited.

Maybe you mumbled words in your sleep, or swatted your hand along his side, something to have roused him from his slumber.

Click. The warmth of a bedside lamplight vanished the darkness blanketing the room, the solidarity of each of your senses pointing out where you were.

Simple, minimalist decorated walls. A rich, dark red throw blanket you recalled wrapping yourself in while on the couch during movie night now sprawled over the corner of your bed.

The very same blanket Simon wrapped you in before carrying you off to sleep, temporarily embracing you in an exotic cocoon as your mind processed which dream you were to have.

“I’m here, love,” his voice rasps against your neck, the bridge of his nose brushing against your lower left clavicle.

Your head turned just enough to meet his gaze as his rose, greeted with the warmth of his tired, half asleep face, his hair slightly rustled after a minor process of anxious, short sleep.

The lamp ignited the warmth in his ever so exhausted eyes. Tiger’s eyes hues submerged in the deep blue waters of Alaska, heavy lids shadowed over with visible concern for your cold sweat riddled distress.

Warm blood pulsing through his heart, urging his cells to maintain the tone of his skin, the hint of pink in his cheeks, the hues of fool’s gold that made up the palate of his irises reflecting off the warm light.

His eyes flicker along the details of your face, as if instantly suspecting something. His hand makes a gentle effort to cup along the outskirt of your bare thigh, his heavy palm settling around your waist.

“Don’t tell me you had a damn nightmare already,” he mutters against your hair, practically able to hear the hitch in your breath after such an unsettling silence.

“Let me guess. The Walking Dead?”

“Nuh uh.” You mumble, silently thankful for the sound of his beating heart close to your ear, a smile tickling your face. “Shaun of the Dead.”

“Christ’s sake,” he grunts out, adjusting the position of his head, settling his cheek along your skull. The upside over movie streaming, he can tell if you’re lying about it in the morning on your watch history.

He didn’t ask what you dreamt of, not yet at least. He didn’t want to know, not unless you offered, or he was cruel enough to pry. For now, Simon wondered what that dream would’ve meant, if it contained the undead.

He thought for a while, wondering if you found yourself dreaming you were bit by a zombie. What an impossible image for him to come by.

Your hair smelled of honey and oat, your skin kissed with warm sugar from your lotion, and a faint butteriness from your homemade dark chocolate drizzled popcorn you made for horror movie night.

No, you were too sweet to be considered sickly deceased in such a crude manner. Him, however?

No, no he began to suspect, but those were thoughts he refused to ponder.

“Only one week in, an’ you’ve lost it. Don’t plan to watch anything with zombies for next weekend.”

“What about… Friday the 13th?”

“Pick something else in the morning, go back to sleep princess.”

Y’know how you’re trying to sleep and you wake up after feeling like falling? Imagine that. That’s what happened.

Idk how to write zombies, so this is all I got 🧍🏽‍♀️📱

#simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod #cod modern warfare ii #cod zombies #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #simon Riley zombie #ghost zombie #zombie ghost #his jaw wiggles #until his jaw falls off #until it’s jaw dropping to the floor #until it pops back on like a Lego piece #until it falls into the river in Lego City

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margareturtle · 5 months

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Jace and Simon banter is elite

Idk if anyone competes tbh

Like parabatai banter is good but it’s more intense with underlying tension

Jace and Simon are iconic from their first interaction

They’re the def of bros4life

#we always used to call you wiggles #thinking about how jon cartwright claimed to be besties with jace #but simon was right there #and maybe he didn’t remember at the time #but simon is jace’s closest friend outside of his family #jimon #besties #in love #jace herondale #simon lewis #simon lovelace #the mortal instruments #the dark artifices #tales from shadowhunter academy #tftsa #the wicked powers #twp #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles

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whenyourbirdisbroken · 1 year

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Who are your favourite “band mates who fucked”?

#Lol thanks anon #Great question #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon #Mick jagger #Keith Richards #fleetwood mac #The wiggles #harry styles #louis tomilson #larry stylinson #simon and garfunkel

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yeenybeanies · 10 months

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IT'S COMING ALONG!!! Best quality: his wiggles

Also Ghost's shirt is working so hard, like damn maybe go up a size but also don't <3

I feel like I could make his jeans work harder too. We'll see ....

hhHOOOOOAAAAAA THEM!!!!!

HOLDS THIS TO MY CHEST & WAILS!!!

#YOOOO THIS LOOKS GREAT I’M HOWLIN #his best quality: his wiggles #SO true bestie #shakes you by the shoulders #i love this. i love them. i’m gonna cry #g/t #g/t art #cod #g/t cod #ghostsoap #simon riley #john mactavish #mitb au #hyena love

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parttimesarah · 2 years

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Some of my favorite Giggly Bens from the Ghosts S4 bloopers…

And my favorite Wiggly Ben…

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babygirlghostsoap · 1 year

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head empty, no thoughts only

Sorry sir, let me translate ... "Go fuck yourself"

like HELLO? the way he lowers his voice? the pause?? he sounds like he's breathless

and don't even get me STARTED on ghost's reply "Much better"

TELL ME THE HETEROSEXUAL EXPLANATION FOR THIS

#someone get the wiggles cause its about to be a fruit salad in here #sorry besties #back on my bullshit <3 #call of duty modern warfare II #call of duty #modern warfare 22 #cod mwii #cod mw22 #soap #ghost #soapghost #ghostsoap #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #johnny mactavish #simon riley

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callofdudes · 7 months

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At this very moment doing and MCU/CoD crossover with @itsscromp with their idea as Price being wolverine.

And just struck up the feral idea inside of me of Simon as Deadpool and Price as wolverine. And they go through the throws of friends to strangers to enemies to allies to friends again-

Sorry, bye again.

#i just want simon in the deadpool mask #hed be wicked with swords #scromp came up with wolverine price and i couldnt agree more 😌#i want this #simon ghost riley #call of duty #captain john price #ghostprice #priceghost #simon riley #john price #idea #crossover ideas #my bestie making my brainworms wiggle

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unofficialpersonsblog · 3 months

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clip of the day #3

#simon and garfunkel #mainly posting this cause of paul’s little laugh #lmaoo #but the almost identical outfits #they look like they’re in the wiggles

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kittyundercover1 · 5 months

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MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! 🎄🎁✨

Have a Wiggly redraw!

#the wiggles #the wiggles fanart #john wiggle #lucia wiggle #tsehay wiggle #simon wiggle #evie wiggle #anthony wiggle #caterina wiggle #lachy wiggle #fanart #christmas

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ghouljams · 4 months

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PLEASE PARENTAL FIFURE HEAR ME OUT!!! Love and Simon taking cabbage to the botanical gardens and she’s just squealing and overjoyed at all the flowers and plants!!

You push your stroller along the path, watching your baby turn her head with wide excited eyes to look at the flower bushes on either side of her. Her little chubby legs kick enthusiastically, her hands clenched in tiny fists that she shoves against her smiling lips to suck on before wildly gesticulating at the plants. You lean down to wipe off her drool-y fingers and she holds her arms out to be picked up. You suppose you should have anticipated a trip to the botanical garden would be good for her. All the flowers seem to turn their petals her way, eager for the infant's overjoyed squeals.

"Muh muh muh," She babbles, desperately reaching for you. You smile and unbuckle her little harness to pull her from the stroller. Simon dutifully takes hold of the push bar and leans against the thing as you bounce Carmilla in your arms. She leans out of your arms, reaching for the flowers that turn for her grasping hands.

"Keep a hold on her, don't know who's living in there." Simon advises behind you, you nod and adjust your grip. You take a step closer to the bushes and watch your baby pet her hands over the blooms in reach. Her eyes sparkle, marveling at the softness of the petals and the rich color. You laugh when she leans to try and reach for another one.

"Be gentle mon petit chou," You coo at her, "they're not going anywhere." Still you follow her directions, watching how careful and inquisitive her little hands are. Simon pushes the stroller along behind you, humming as he keeps an eye on the two of you.

You continue your walk through the garden, passing Carmie off to Simon when your arms get tired. You push the stroller, watching Simon point out different flowers, and speak to your daughter in a soft tone. He's careful to uncurl her fingers when she grabs for a flower, kissing her cheek when she starts getting fussy. You wonder if he's explaining fae things to her, if he's telling her that she came from a flower too, or if he's just talking. Sometimes he just... talks to her. It's cute.

"Dada," He coaches her, bouncing her in his arms until she giggles and pushes her face against his shoulder, "come on, know you can say it." You laugh and bump the stroller against his leg. Simon glances over his shoulder at you, "She says your name."

"She doesn't say anything, she's babbling." You remind him, reaching to squeeze your daughter's hand to get her attention. "Dada," You try, just to watch her wiggle and babble her little baby syllables, "No dice daddy, sorry."

Simon pulls her back off his shoulder and holds her up at eye level. "Dada," He tells her. She kicks her feet in the open air, her eyes sparkly with joy.

"Mum mum mum," She babbles, reaching to grab at his mask. Simon lets her, even lets her pull herself in to gum at his cheek, her little mouth doing its best to chomp at him. He sighs as you giggle.

"She's not getting it," You wiggle your fingers against your daughter's side, Simon hums.

"She'll get it," He assures you, assures himself. He grabs your hand, settling Carmie back against his shoulder to start walking again. "Got a lot of ground to cover mummy, let's go." You laugh and hurry to push the stroller along next to him. Considering you've stopped to let the baby look at every flower you've passed, you have a long day ahead of you.

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