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dymitre · 2 months

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Okay.... HEAR ME OUT!

#spongebob #spongebon squarepants #karen #robot #fanart #art #digital art #digital drawing #digital artist #artists on tumblr #sketch #woahhhh #okay but #aaaaaaa #look at her #she looks amazing #myart #myartstyle #why am i like this

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boinky-doinky · 3 months

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🫵😨

#woahhhh #an art post 🫵😨#I can’t stop thinking abt them 😔😔#marble hornets #brian thomas #tim wright #jay merrick #mh jay merrick #mh tim wright #mh brian #mh masky #mh hoodie #boinkus.hotline #boinkus draws

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nappy-by-nature · 2 years

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Puff Art

#black hair #afro puffs #black beauty #hair art #woahhhh

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2022dirt · 4 months

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The paint on this chain-link fence faded into a pattern of circles.

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alicelwx · 3 months

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Pls get in my pocket

#the silly #eleventh doctor #doctor who #matt smith #eleventh doctor x reader #silly little guy #put him in my pocket #woahhhh #me if u even care

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bwahbwahbawh · 3 months

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S3 leaks trust🙏🙏

#mkulia #td mk #woahhhh #other tags yeah #pretend there’s so many tags #td julia

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the-oracles-maw · 28 days

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hesitancy

totally self indulgent trash

tw: implied past abusive relationship, power imbalance, this relationship isn't very healthy gang

Simon “ghost” riley x reader

"Simon? Are you ready to go?"

Your fiancé briefly pauses from typing away at the home office laptop. He was totally engrossed in finalizing paperwork, you paid little mind to the details. You squeeze your arm, nervously, shuffling in the gown you've picked out for the night. Simon's old military buddies had invited you both to a charity event. Something for veterans. Your gown was a tank-sleeve, somewhat form fitting number, that cascaded down to your ankles. It was a deep, dark teal color, and from the sleeves, a sheer, sparkly black split "cape" cascaded down your back, past your feet and onto the floor.

"Mn... in a minute." Simon's response was blunt. Not even looking up from the computer screen, sending a pang in your stomach. Perhaps he was very, very focused. And you must've disturbed him.

Shaking out the dress shirt he's picked out for the evening, you lay it over the back of the chair, daring to speak up again. "We've gotta leave in about a half hour."

"Mn..." His grunt became a little louder, as if he was annoyed. Or, at the very least, aware of your presence, fingers flying away across the keyboard.

"Um...." You speak up, your voice barely above a whisper. "Do... do you want me to call John?" Wondering if perhaps Simon didn't want to go to the charity. He wasn't exactly a people-person, as you knew. Perhaps offering him an out would please him? You always did your best to please your stoic man. "I... I can tell him you're not feeling well and-"

"Nah," he responded, still not looking at you. "I'll be done soon."

With each passing moments, your posture grew more tense, your body language growing more demure, submissive. A defense mechanism you've picked up in the past, especially regarding the men in your life. If you read their minds, you thought, if you bent over backwards to please them, then...

Simon, on the other hand, had a decent idea of what he was doing to you, as you meekly muttered that you were going to wait for him in the living room. A surge of adrenaline rushes through him hearing your meek voice, a tingling that starts in his chest, and creeps into his loins. A power imbalance he doesn't exactly relish, but didn't do anything to put a stop to either, under the assumption that this was just how you were.

There was a time, that, perhaps, Simon was amused of how easily you submitted to him. A ghost (lol) of a smile curling up his lips, he finishes up the paperwork on the laptop, and closes it. Grabbing the dress jacket you left on the computer chair for him, he makes his way into the living room, where you waited.

You were still curled into yourself. Did Simon not like the dress? Was it too revealing? You'd pulled over a big, fluffy jacket over it. Your shoulders drawn to each other, pinching the bit of visible tummy from your dress. Simon's lack of comment or attention has clearly done a blow on your self-esteem.

Simon looked on, despite his massive size, entirely silent. Flickers of compassion watch over him as he watches your pick yourself apart. He's grown to expect your complete submission, but now without having complicated feelings for it. The man couldn't deny that there was something sickeningly endearing the way you modified your behavior on a whim just to please him.

Simon knows exactly why you cast aside your gaze whenever he enters the room, when he's anything less than beaming with happiness. He knows exactly why you pick at your tummy, why you scrunch your shoulders. He knows very well, that you're irrationally terrified of the man. "You alright?" Simon, aware of your anguished state, lowers his voice as he approaches you.

You straighten up as he approaches. Furiously rubbing your tear stained eyes and cheeks, you rise to meet him. "I'm okay, Si. I'm okay." The man isn't convinced, but he allows you to adjust the collar of his dress jacket and shirt.

"You sure?" Simon was starting to grow concerned. This power, he was used to it. The assumption that this was just how you were... Well... to say he wasn't beginning to crow a little concerned was an understatement. Did he do something to cause this? Did something frighten you?

He sadly, was disappointed, but not al ass surprised, when he placed his hands over yours to fix his collar himself, and you flinched.

He backs up, raising his hands in surrender, also raising an inquisitive brow at this extreme reaction. His eyes soften at your spluttering following words:

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I-"

"You're trembling." His deep, accented voice rumbled. It was softer than it had been all night. His hands hovered over yours, not quite touching them, but they just, barely graved over yours as they shook. Violently.

"Come, let's talk about this. Come sit, luv." He made sure to watch his tone. With your anguished mental state, you would certainly get the wrong idea if he asked you to do something for him. He sits next to you and begins. "Now, what's going on, huh? You scared of me?"

You don't answer.

It was answer enough.

That did anger him. but for your sake, that anger only simmered inside him. He's exploited people being afraid of him for so long. Came with being a master interrogator, of course. But to see his significant other shy away from him like this? Did you think the man was made of stone?

"Easy... easy..." His hands hover over your shoulders and chest as you pull yourself tightly together. Simon thought his ego would be thoroughly fed by the way you were acting. Perhaps, at one time. At one time. Not now.

"Just... breathe... alright? Breathe... Relax... Don't look at me like I'm about to strike you, luv. I'm not. You hear me?"

His tone is gentle, but firm. His hands hover over your face now, as if he wants to wipe away your tears, but doesn't. As if touching your face would drive you over the edge. His voice continues to whisper to you, enveloping your senses like a great blanket, until you've sufficiently calmed down. Giving you a small smile, Simon shed his jacket.

"Look, I'm not... liking what I'm seeing..." he motioned his hand in a circle around you. "here." He reaches over, making sure to touch the jacket and not you, pulling it off.

"Well won't you look at that... A sight for sore eyes, luv." You swear you saw him lick his lips. "Just makin' sure you know it ain't about the dress." He even gave you a small smile.

"Look..." he began. "I know I can be... well, fuck it, intense but..." A long sigh. "You? You're my partner. Not my fucking squamates." He was still whispering. "I don't want to have to come home to someone who looks like a tick about to fucking pop whenever they're around me."

You avert your gaze.

"No, come on, luvie, look at me." This time, he did touch you, the tips of his big fingers tilting your chin. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"

"I..." you start, your voice barely audible. "I don't know... why..."

"You know, just cause I'm military, don't mean I'm gonna smack you around, got me?"

"I know, I... I really don't know why I'm like this... I don't know why you scare me."

You cover your mouth as Simon gives you a slow nod. "I see. Don't say anything, luv." He reaches out his hand, unfurled, wanting you to take it. "Looks like we've got a little something to work on, yeah?"

He was right. This was something that was only going to worsen the more it was ignored. Instead of taking Simon's hand, you withdraw. Simon closes it and gives a proud nod. You needed to learn and shake the idea that due to your fiancé's career, that he had no intention to hurt you.

And Simon needed to swallow his pride, and read you better. Having you cater to every whims down to the way he breathes, is only going to brew fear and resentment, not love and respect.

"I think we should call it off, yeah?" Simon scoots in closer to you. Your sides were touching. "I don't think you're in any state to mingle about a bunch of people."

You agreed.

"Why don't you put on something cozy, I'll give John and the shrink a call, yeah?"

You were going to work on this. You weren't going to be mindlessly flighty around your man. And he was willing to put in the work himself to show you had nothing to fear? You were touched. Beyond touched.

Your face lights up, ever so slightly, and you speak, the clearest as you have that night. "Okay. Simon?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."