Roommate!Simon Riley Who Is Literally Your Personal Weather Man.

don't stress about that opportunity that fell through or that friend you lost or that thing you really want to happen but isn't. as long as you keep your chin up and try try try again, better things will replace your losses. i'm looking at my life rn and actually marveling at how every single thing i stressed about, whether it be an opportunity or a person, got supplanted w another thing that is so much better. it really is true that loss makes space for better things. these days i don't get sad when something doesn't work out. i get excited that i'm now open to so many other possibilities out there, so long as i actively seek them. you never lack. you just transition.

STOP CARING ABOUT WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK OF YOU!!!!

NO ONE. and i mean *NOBODY* will EVER have a "right" or valid opinion of you! have they been through all the exact experiences and learnt the lessons you've been through? no!!

what they think and say about you IS NOT A REFLECTION OF YOU. everything they say about you is based on THEIR OWN past experiences and how they've been raised! its NOT PERSONAL. its NOT always about you.

for example: if someone wears a high crop top or a mini skirt/ shorts, some cultures might frown or be disgusted by that. but thats only because of the way they've been raised is to show no skin. its not about the person wearing the clothes.

so you need to get over yourself. go out into public wearing those clothes, be proud of yourself. you've been through so much and so have those other people. if they say something bad, don't take it personally. its about their life. not yours.

ITS NEVER PERSONAL.

so as long as it's not hurting anyone, go and live your fu<3ing life!

somebody needs to stop me

Roommate!Simon Riley who crawls into your bed late at night when he gets home from deployment.

The apartment is dark, nothing but the hood light on the microwave dimly illuminating the kitchen. He can hear the theme song of your show playing from the hallway. It was something you’d seen a thousand times before, and he knew you’d watch a million times after that. One of his favorite sounds on Earth was hearing the echo of your sweet laughter that came with it. It was the only thing that kept him sane while he was away, knowing he was coming home to you.

He drops his duffle, trudging, begrudgingly, to his room to change and clean up. Oh how’d he’d love to just go right to your arms, but he was disgusting, and he didn’t want to get his sweet’art coated in blood and dirt.

He’d move quickly, barely taking the time to wash his body before he was out and in his boxers.

Immediately, he was standing at your cracked door, eyes flickering to your sleeping frame as the TV light glared harshly around the room.

You were covered in a cocoon of blankets, stuffed animals scattered across the mattress. He loved how everything that surrounded you screamed life. Down to the colors of your pajamas and the books on your nightstand. It was such a drast contrast to what he’d spent the last month being suffocated in. It was his home.

He’d creep in slowly, trying to keep his footsteps quiet as he made the way to your bed. There were clothes on the floor, and he found himself tripping over a few pairs of shoes. A smile crept its way onto his stern features. This was what he’d been waiting for. He’d crawl to your body, pushing past mounds of covers to lay down beside you with a grunt. He’d delicately wrap his arms around your waist, squeezing your skin every so often to remind himself that this was real, that you were here.

You’d stir, hand flying out to push away whatever had grabbed you, but he was quick to ease the anxiety, planting a kiss to the back of your head. “easy now love, it’s just me.”

You’d immediately still at the sound of his voice, relaxing into the warmth of his body. “missed you.” The words are slurred, but they’re there nonetheless. Groggy and hoarse, but yours.

He’d sigh, nuzzling his nose into your hair. The sweet smell of your shampoo makes him breathe a little easier. “missed you too.”

He’d fall asleep like that, passed out against your back. No covers on his body, no clothes. Just you, your show, and the peace finally coming back to him at the feeling of your chest rising and falling.

You were alive. You were here.

That’s all that ever mattered.

can you tell I have an unhealthy obsession with this trope??

happy easter girls 🐣🩵 be kind to yourselves today and God bless you all!

"Have you seen that bigboy with a skullface??"

Me after reading the most profane, toe curling, mind blowing smut known to man in the middle of class because I was bored

simon who always guides your hand to palm at his cock when you guys kiss. tells you you’re makin’ ‘em feel s’good. that that’s what good girlfriends do.

loves feeling your quiet little gasps against his mouth as he throbs in your hand, as his thick, heavy cock fills your palm.

and the sweet little noise you make when he cums all over your fingers. only to wrap his fingers around your own to have you stroke him again :(