Same GUYS..

I love the idea of Simon being a lovey dovey man, but him being more emotionally absent/not *really* there (in a sense that hes physically there but not THERE. yk?) is more realistic, at least before he learns, i can imagine he was taught this way bcs of his father,

simon, who takes you for granted.

simon, who got used to sleeping the problems away, and waking up in the morning to tea made just for him. you always add honey, and he's got used to the aftertaste

neither of you talk about it. he doesn't mention it, for one, and you never seem to hold it against him in the morning, so he always keeps quiet. it's peaceful like that. comfortable

simon, who doesn't feel the need to hold you at night because you're always upset, no matter what he does or what he says, so he gives you space

simon, whose eyes wander from time to time, lingering

you, and the way your hands stop reaching out to him one day

simon, who doesn't understand it when you bring up divorce

you, packing your bags and leaving him with a small smile. you don't text, you don't come back, you give no explanation

goodbye

simon, who can only sip his whiskey, hoping it can numb the growing pain in his chest

and it hits him, weeks later, that you meant it

you're done

simon, who is alone again

buy me a coffee

/(◕‿◕)/

Caulder in hunter green

Tw for Simon’s comic backstory, his dad, and abelism but…

I feel like Simon flapped his hands as a stim when he was a little kid, but his father would hit him or yell at him for doing it because it made him “look special” or something, so now Simon just doesn’t stim, and if he does then it’s always something super small. Like he’ll rub the fabric of his sleeves between his thumb and index finger but that’s about it. It’s been beaten into his head by not just his father, but his life experiences that stimming is bad and something he should suppress.

Me on tumblr.

MY BABY RILEYYYY

I have no excuse

Crying screaming throwing up

THEY MAKE ME FEEL INSANE ACTUALLY

No because the way Alex sees Bear tearing up (do you think he heard the tiny whimper when the hallucination(?) of Rip touched his cheek?) and asks if he's okay without tip toeing around the fact that something's wrong.

The way Alex glances back after double checking, like he's making sure Bear won't break down then and there. The way he looks hesitant to go back and ask over and over until he gets a real answer, but he knows that Bear will push and deny the same way he does.

The way Bear has stopped himself from crying several times in the show, shaking it off like he'll ruin his image if anyone sees. As if someone will think he's weak (God knows Lena would, every dismissal of his feelings made that idea much stronger)

Simon riley as not-terrible-but-struggling dad hcs :

Simon really thought he could do kids. For you. After all, you managed him, didn’t you? You loved him gently, without breaking him. You softened the edges of his sharp, jagged past, made him feel like maybe he wasn’t the monster his father had always painted him to be.

But when it came to his own children? It wasn’t that simple. He couldn’t just flip a switch. He couldn’t be gentle like you were. With them, there was no softness in his hands, no warmth in his words.

He was too afraid, always second-guessing, always wondering if the anger he fought so hard to bury would surface. He promised himself he’d never turn out like his father, but the fear never left. And now, standing there, unable to reach his kids the way you reached him.

"He’s Your Dad, There Will Always Be Some of him in you" His mother’s words would haunt him. Some nights, while deployed, he would stare at pictures of his kids and wonder if the parts of himself he hates are already in them — if he’s ruined them without even meaning to. (He'd never say this aloud, not even to you.)

When he’s home, he would stand in doorways a lot, just watching. He doesn’t really know how to join in. If the kids are playing, he’ll awkwardly clear his throat and maybe say, "Crack on," before walking away.

If he tries to play with them, it's stiff, military-like "Right, team, operation clean up toys" and the kids just kind of stare at him like he's grown a second head.

His eldest looks up to him desperately, but Simon is so afraid of 'messing him up' that he keeps him at arm’s length. It kills him, because deep down, he wants to throw the football around, teach him how to build things, even just sit on the floor and play video games — but he doesn't know how to be there without feeling like a fraud.

He’s even worse with the girls. He thinks he's too rough, too cold for little girls who deserve someone softer. Once, his youngest proudly handed him a card, the words "Velcom back dady" scribbled on it in crooked letters. It made Simon’s heart swell, but the warmth in his chest but he didn’t know what to say beyond a simple "Thank you" and an awkward hug, followed by a quick kiss on the cheek.

He felt like he should do more, like he should say something meaningful, but all that came out was a stiff smile and a quick retreat into his own discomfort.

He kept every card, every messy scribble, locked safely in his drawer, a secret place where he could look at them when the weight of being a father became too much. But no matter how much he treasured those little moments, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his kids, especially his daughter, thought he didn’t appreciate them. That maybe, in their eyes, he wasn’t doing enough.

He watched how natural you are with them. How you can make them laugh until they’re red faced, how you know exactly what to say when they cry. And somewhere deep inside, he resents himself becausw he thought he'd be better for you.

But he is the dad who checks the locks three times before going to bed. Who makes sure the first aid kit is fully stocked. Who taught his son how to throw a proper punch "just in case" but can’t tell him he’s proud out loud. His love comes out in safety, in protection but not words, not warmth.

He genuinely believes his kids prefer you. And it's true. He tells himself he’s just the "boring parent," the "strict one," the one they tolerate until he goes away again. (The reality is, they miss him constantly. They just don’t know how to bridge the gap either.)

His son once left a drawing on Simon’s desk, a picture of the whole family holding hands, and Simon stared at it for an hour, too scared to pick it up.

And when all three of them in their teenage years, they've entered that "I hate everyone" phase, and if things weren't strained before, it's worse now. The snide remarks, the cold stares, the refusal to engage, it all hurts more than he admits. And he tries not to take it personally but damn.

One evening, Simon catches his eldest daughter sneaking out of the house, heading toward a car that's waiting outside. It's late, and she's dressed up, clearly for a date. He watches from the shadows, unsure of what to do. He doesn't want to be the overbearing father who controls every move she makes.

He doesn't know how to approach it without making her feel trapped, especially when he's barely ever around to set any kind of example. Instead, he stays back, watching as she disappears into the night.

Whenever you try to talk to him about it, Simon nods and says, "Yeah, you're right. It's just a phase," but he never admits that part of him feels useless. He feels like an outsider, like his kids would rather be anywhere but with him.

He doesn't voice it because he knows it's irrational, they're growing up, they're becoming independent, but the guilt lingers. He doesn't know how to connect with them when all they seem to want is space, and that makes him feel like he's failing them.

(honestly cried a little thinking too much about it bcs most of this just me projecting my own relationship with my father) (I'm sorry)

real

people making content for six in the year 2025 please know you are doing amazing work for humanity

not satisfied but i refuse to work on this any longer