#anyway they're cute regardless

[echofades]

Happy anniversary, my love. NCIS: HAWAI'I | 2x20: NIGHTWATCH TWO

[makiswirl]

can i just say. and this is probably a niche hill to die on. that i am so gobsmacked every time someone vaguely hints at the idea that jotaro doesn't care meaningfully for the other crusaders, usually particularly kakyoin and joseph, when those two actually tend to be the ones he reacts to being hurt the hardest

like he cares for his loved ones!!!! that literally plays into his character motives in every single part he shows up in!!! stop lying to me!!!!!!!

[inpacho]

Loser baby

Happy valentine

Click for better quality

[callhimnowmarisamylove]

And they both lived happily ever after... 

[spaghett-onaplate]

depression is really weird actually wdym i spent 2.5 years of my life in bed

[theultimatekamehamehavoc]

Naegami Fluff and/or Shenanigans 10

Byakuya just looks like he's like mint cookies. I dunno why I feel this way but he just gives that to me. Plus, it's KINDA cute as a headcanon. Like, mint cookies, minting money. Uh... Mint is green His tie is green. I dunno! This one is very miniscule. Which is why I am now going to expand this thought via Naegami. Aka, one day, Makoto accidently steals Byakuya's stupid little mint cookies. Hijinks insure. Ahem It all begins one day when Makoto's a bit hungry and lost of what to eat. He doesn't really feel like cooking at all. Maybe he's just feeling a bit lazy and lethargic that day. Or, perhaps, he was just craving a little snack. Regardless though, the boy decides to rummage around in the pantry in search for a tasty treat to sink his teeth into. Eventually, the boy finds a nice box of mint cookies and, without much thought, he opens it up and begins snacking. He then takes the box with him and maybe does some activity while eating a bit mindlessly. Maybe watching some videos, reading some manga. What matters though is that, after a while, the box becomes empty and he's both a bit bummed out that there's no more cookies but also just a bit embarrassed that he ate them all like that without noticing until the last minute. Makoto tries not to think much of it though and swiftly discards the empty box. Here's him munching on one of the cookies btw.

Fast-forward a day later and Byakuya searches the pantry in search of a small serving of the cookies he "invested" in that he totally didn't buy on a whim with his boyfriend in a dinky supermarket to try something new. However, gasp! They're gone! Who could have done this? Certainly not the heir! He would have known if he'd ate them all. He's not one to forget such a fact. Thus, his head turns to the only culprit there that could have done such a thing to his Great Value thin mint cookies that he was lowkey a tad bit interested in trying and judging for himself. Emphasis on the judging cus the heir's got a way more refined taste to actually ENJOY Great Value cookies like the average joe. And, Makoto. Yeah, him. There is just that immediate realization in his eyes. Oh, crap. he done goofed, didn't he. Therefore, the boy tries his best to tell the truth. Before he can confess what he did though, Byakuya interrupts him and begins his investigation. Basically, Byakuya literally treats this whole situation like a crime case. A crime scene with a murder victim, suspects, and a culprit that needs to be caught at all cost. Therefore, the bastard starts interrogating Makoto, acting that he really IS upset and has no choice but to solve this mystery once and for all. However, Makoto can tell the heir isn't TOO mad though the word's the heir says aren't to be ignored. The boy can tell that, even though the cookies were cheap garbage in the heir's eyes, he still had that long-lasting curiosity to actually try them. By eating the mint cookies, Makoto took that away from him. So, regardless of the lighthearted air to the situation, Makoto still had that guilt festering inside. The heir's antics do distract his mind a bit as he questions Makoto on where he was on the night of the crime, estimates the time in which the crime took place, and even pulls out a notepad to write down all of this information. Eventually, Makoto ends up spilling everything after this goes on for a while. He played along for a bit. However, the boy's guilt kept festering and festering into a boiling point that he could not handle any longer. When he speaks of what occurred, Makoto is very visibly embarrassed. Though he isn't one to do this type of thing often, the fact that he ingested a whole box of the thin mints still left him feeling ashamed. Byakuya does end up cheering the boy up in his own Togami way however. Like, the two chat a bit and it's oddly sweet.

Byakuya basically tells Makoto that he wasn't that mad at him and he should have expected something like this to happen at some point. The heir's picked up on Makoto's good and iffy habits after all. Makoto can't help but say sorry again though cus Makoto's just like that. They decide to put this situation aside though and get some new cookies instead that aren't Great Value ones. Aka, it's baking time!

Here's them with the cookies. They made too many.

[kumakuma-circus]

just randomly remembered that during my like 10+ attempts at the shadow yukiko fight i more or less consistently ran out of revival beads so yosuke was just dead (well unconscious but whatever) on the ground for like half the fight gfhfjvhfhfhd-

[primakira]

throws into the void: surfer!jo and swimmer!nate in the olympics

[tvrningout]

👐 also if ur already taking memes for him, from mali for arata :')

faces are gettin' squished! | @metrictita squishes arata's face!

heat blossoms along the musician's cheeks when mali cups his face ( huh?? what?? what's going on?? jeez, her hands are soft--- ) and... promptly squishes his cheeks. quickly as the nerves came, they're gone as a surprised laugh spills from arata's lips. " o-oi, lemme go! " he's reaching for mali's cheeks, squishing them, too, as if the action might force her to second-guess her choices. he can't tell if it's really working all that well ( he's never been great at reading people, truth be told. some might call him downright terrible at it ).

" if ya don't, i'll start ticklin' next! "

[tmos-time]

im watching nerdy prudes must die. gotta say 15 minutes from the 2 hour mark, tumblr skewed how much screen time i thought those 5 crayola markers would have in the musical where are they

[gamebunny-advance]

Context: about every 100+ followers or so, I hold a "Follower Milestone Celebration" where I open doodle requests for a short time. I'm getting really close to the next one, but the last time I did it, there weren't that many requests, so I've kinda been discouraged from doing it.

But, this next milestone is kinda special since it's the big 1,000, and it'd feel weird if that's the one where I finally decided to stop doing it. So, I thought I'd ask what y'all want to do.

If you're not familiar with the general celebration rules, they are as follows:

One request per person per celebration. If you've made a request in the past, you can ask for another one, but only one per milestone.

One character per request. I might make exceptions for "animal buddies" or other small companions, but not 2 full-sized characters. I used to do them, but I wanna keep things moving and do as many requests as possible.

Don't be too detailed or specific. These are only doodle requests, something I can draw in less than an hour, so the art is gonna be a little simple. At most, keep it limited to 1 character + an action. Props are okay. Backgrounds are situational/simple.

Good Example: Kun3h0 eating a pizza.

Bad Example: Kun3h0 sitting cross-legged while eating a pizza slice in one hand, and holding a game controller in the other while playing Kirby Air Ride while GAB watches.

It's ONLY open to followers that followed before I made the official announcement. (This is not the official announcement.) This means that requests cannot be anonymous, since I have to verify the follower status. If you don't want your name published with your request, then just ask to be anonymous, and I won't mention your name when I post the doodle~

I'm being especially strict about that rule now. Anyone coming into my ask box with a sob story that wasn't following me is just gonna be blocked on sight now.

I don't do OCs. This includes other people's OCs. I used to allow them for mutuals and honorary mutuals, but it's both a confusing rule, and I actually feel a lot of pressure when drawing OCs since I want to make them as good as possible. I think y'all deserve the best, but that's hard to upkeep when I'm doing rapid-fire requests X(.

I will draw for fandoms I'm not familiar with, but I won't draw things that conflict with my moral values. I'm not gonna make a whole list of things/fandoms I won't draw, but if you've been following me on either of my two blogs, then you probably have a good idea of where my moral compass lies. Just ask if you're not sure. If I won't do it, then I'll just ask you to make a different request.

I don't do horny. It's not against my morals, but I won't do that kind of thing for free. Even if it's an innocuous kink that could pass under the radar, I'm not consenting to be a part of that at this time. Consider a commission if you want something like that from me.

That's the gist of it. There isn't a hard limit on how long the celebration goes or how many requests I'll do, but it's generally first-come, first-serve, but mutuals/honorary mutuals get priority. I like to think of it like microwaving pop-corn: I'll officially close things once requests either slow down or stop for a significant amount of time and/or I get burnt out.

Also keep in mind that none of this is an obligation to me, so I might reject a request for a reason not explicitly stated in the rules. It just depends on how comfortable I am with the request.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask (questions can be anonymous)~

[sukunasweetheart]

Sukuna, a middle aged man jaded by the harsh realities of his life. He steps outside for a smoke nearby a convenience store, completely bored out of his mind.

A lady is handing out flyers nearby, although nobody is bothering to look her way, including sukuna himself.

You approach the man who's getting irritated by the lighter that refuses to work in his hand.

"Hello there, sir. Would you be interested in taking up classes for arts and craft?" You offer the cute flyer up.

Sukuna scoffs. Is she serious?

"No thanks."

"Are you sure? You look like you could use a bit more colour in your life."

He's too exhausted at this point to get angry at a random woman on the street.

"...You're not too far off, i suppose," sukuna mutters, still trying to get the spark to stay on his lighter. "Even so, I'm not interested in the likes of arts and craft. Do i look like a child to you?"

You withdraw your offer of your flyer, and inspect him for a moment.

"Arts and craft can be enjoyed by anyone, regardless of age. But moving past that... you seem a bit down. If you'd like to confide in a stranger for a night, I'm happy to listen."

What a strange, persistent woman. Sukuna gives up on his lighter, and takes out the unlit cigarette in his mouth to think back for a moment. One thing does come to mind.

"I'm not feeling down. But i remembered something, now that i think about it..." he confesses, feeling weirdly compelled to tell you about it.

"Today is supposed to be my birthday."

Birthdays have never been special to him. Nobody celebrated his birth as a child, and in turn, he's never paid attention to the birthdays of others.

"Oh, happy birthday. Are you doing anything special for yourself today?"

"No. I've never cared for birthdays. And I'm getting too old for that anyway."

"Well, that won't do... Hold on for a second."

Puzzled, sukuna looks back at you but you've already gone inside the convenience store. Whatever you're up to now, couldn't possibly be more enticing than getting in a proper smoke right now. Sukuna begins to zone out.

He only snaps out of it when something mildly cold grazes past his cheek, leaving a ticklish and moist sensation on his skin as it disappears upon impact.

Bubbles. Bubbles are flying past him, and floating away into the sky.

For a moment, he gets mesmerised by the swirl of colours that are harboured in each one. Even just from the light of this dingy street, they fly up while holding a multitude of different colours inside them. Time seems to slow for a split second, and he doesn't understand why.

His gaze follows the trail to identify it's source. And unsurprisingly, it's you, standing behind him. You blow a couple more out, and then grin at him childishly. He finally looks at your face properly for the first time.

"Birthday bubbles. For the birthday man," you chuckle sheepishly, knowing that you probably look a bit silly right now. You put the bubble wand back into the small bottle of the soapy mixture, and screw it tightly.

"Here, you can have it. Next time you're feeling a bit antsy, why don't you try blowing some yourself? They're pretty, aren't they?"

You also hand him a different small item.

"And i also threw in a little something else, while i was at it."

He looks down, and sees that it's a new lighter. He slowly pulls his hand out of his pocket to take both of them from your hands.

"I hope you get to do something more special next year. Birthdays are supposed to be joyful, after all," you comment.

"Thanks for putting up with my nosiness. Farewell."

And then you leave him after a quick wave.

Sukuna stares wordlessly as you walk off, wondering what to name this ticklish feeling rising in the pit of his stomach.

The small bottle in his palm reminds him of a moment in his childhood. Kids in the park bragging about their bubble wands that were gifted to them. the laughs that resounded as they all ran off to catch the fragile spheres as they blew away in the wind. The tiny feelings of envy in his heart.

The item he tucks away into his pocket is the lighter. And when nobody is watching, he blows a couple more bubbles into the night sky.

-

Every time he passes by that convenience store, the thought of you comes to his mind. A flashback of your smile in the back of his mind. Every so often, he comes to this particular store. Despite having closer options, he comes to this specific one.

At times, sukuna regrets not taking one of the flyers that you were handing out. He wouldn't have had to mope around a convenience store in hopes of running into you again.

Today is a rainy day, and this calls for a hot piping cup of instant ramen. He doesn't usually enjoy convenience store food, but he wants a reason to stay around inside for a bit longer.

He needs to wait five minutes for the noodles to soften. In this time, he stares out the glass frame of the store, and watches the various rows of people walking past with their umbrellas opened.

There appears to be one anomaly in the crowd, however. Running without shelter from the rain, clutching her bag as if it contains something important in there. Sukuna realises that it's you.

Forgetting about his instant ramen, sukuna grabs his umbrella and dashes out the door.

You're mildly panicking about being stuck behind the red light at the zebra crossing without anything to save you from the rain, but the sensation of the droplets hitting your body come to a stop all too suddenly.

You look up, and there's a black umbrella sheltering you, big and strong looking. You spin around and recognise the stranger with pink hair and sharp eyes. Seemingly out of breath.

He signals to the light that has now turned green behind you, and ushers you forward to cross the road before you can say anything to him.

Now safely on the other side of the road, you begin to converse with him.

"It's you! Hello. Thank you for sheltering me. How have you been?"

"... So-so. Nothing's changed since the last time we met."

"I see. You look better than last time, though." You get the feeling that his eyes have a little more light in them.

Sukuna doesn't really get what you mean, but he moves on.

"What’s in your bag that's so important for you to be protecting it like that?" He asks, effectively changing the topic.

"Oh, this? I literally just bought some brand new origami paper... i can't risk getting them wet and unusable. The children would be disappointed."

"Origami, huh? How original."

"Hey! That's not all... there's a lot of options i offer them. They voted on origami this time."

"You got a lot of people signed up?"

"Not really... but I'm sure it'll start picking up soon. Slowly, one at a time."

You smile up at him hopefully.

"...is the offer still open?"

You cock your head to the side slightly, confused. Sukuna grits his teeth, feeling a little bashful about having to ask more specifically.

"You know. Lessons for grown adults."

"Oh! Of course, anytime! Would you like to come sign up today?"

"Do you offer one-on-one sessions too?"

"Yes, I do."

"Alright. Let’s go."

Sukuna can't fathom the words that are coming out of his own mouth. But fuck it, what's the worst that could happen? You've somehow intriged him, and he can't think of a better way to approach you.

You chatter his ears off along the way, and he nods along while his shoulder gets wet from the way he leans his umbrella closer to your side.

[mochinomnoms]

In regard to interspecies romance

Humans have a fairly easy time pursuing the other species in Twisted Wonderland, though there are exceptions to that rule.

multi (separate) x reader [wc] - 2,252 [note] - one of the first things i ever wrote, though i never posted cause i didnt edit it. thought i would anyways cause its kinda cute. Edited 12/14/23 to add a readmore

Despite their animal like tendencies and courting methods, it's incredibly common to see human-beastmen couples and families. Perhaps it's due to how similar their behaviors are to their animal counterparts, but humans are fond of how beastmen flirt and display affection. Beastmen are offended by the comparison, but it's hard to deny how similar, and cute, they are to the common wolf, hyena, or lion.

Wolf and other canine beastmen enjoy being close to their mates. They like to be physically affectionate, almost playful with their partners. They'll nuzzle into the crook of their neck—no matter how much bigger they are compared to their human—lean against them when they walk, and will happily be by their beloved's sided at all times. Furthermore, they primarily show their effectiveness as partners by being great providers, regardless of gender, and showing off how tight-knit their packs are. After all, family is very important to them, and they'll expect to have one, no matter how big or small, with their partner in the future.

If you catch Ruggie trying to slyly and smoothly place a hand on the small of you back when moving through crowds, no you don't. If a person notices Jack momentarily grabbing (gingerly, mind you) your sides as he slips behind you to reach the potion ingredient on the shelf above you, don't mention how his touch lingers ever so slightly. Maybe take it with a grain of salt when Jack tries to invite you to visit his family over break, as friends, of course. And when Ruggie brags to you about how well he watched over the neighborhood kids growing up, how he'd make for a great family man, it's all hypothetical.

Feline beastmen are more reserved in their affections in public, especially compared to canines, and even more so for lion beastmen. It's more common for them to show affection in more subtle manners, such as buying their partner's food and drinks without being asked, going out of their way to help them when they're struggling at school or work, and are able to spend hours just in their general vicinity. As long as their beloved is around, they're happy. In private, though, expect to have their entire body draped over them, weight and all, shoved into their personal space to the point that it becomes a foreign concept. Leona embodies this to his entire core, too prideful to perform PDA, but just prideful enough that he knows he can take up all your time and space with no consequence. Unless that consequence is your love and affection, which he supposes he could suffer through if you hear him purring, don't point it out.

All lion beastmen hold their pride close to their heart (no matter how much a certain prince would deny it) and their partner is no exception. Their pride is an intrinsically developed social network made of an extended, but closed family network. It requires all new partners to be carefully and slowly introduced to the rest of the pride, more so in Leona's case due to the royal family being traditionally made up of Sunset Savana nobility. You won't be the first non-beastmen, but are the first foreigner in a very long time to be introduced. Don't worry, though, Leona is nothing if not patient, and his family are just happy to know that he's found someone.

On the other end of the spectrum, however, are human-fae relations. Uncommon, though not for a lack of trying on humans' parts, due to most of the fairfolk residing in the isolated Briar Valley. The complicated history between the two species, ancient to humans but still relatively fresh for fae, doesn't help either. There's also the unfortunate consequence of humankind's rather short lifespans compared to the average 1,000-year lifespan of the fae. Unless the fae is in their final hundred or so years, they'll almost always outlive their partner without magical interference.

It's not impossible though, and as younger fairfolk leave the valley to explore the world, more marriages have resulted in half-fae children, both human and beastmen. As partners, fae are devoted to the health and safety of their loved ones. Increasing tenfold into nearly coddling territory with non-fae. Compared to them, their humans and beastmen are awfully fragile and naive, and require their protection. This can cause animosity between them, however, and only fae that are willing to learn and change their old ways result in happy, long-lived marriages.

They're also generally known to have lengthy courting methods: not dating, that implies something casual, no they court. Once they've established interest in you, their end goal is marriage, no ifs, ands, or buts. Fairfolk are generous with gifting during courtship: all gifts are about an equal-exchange and your acceptance of their gifts is a reciprocation of their feelings. At the end of the courtship, you can expect a small feast to be displayed at a ceremony held between their and your family. This is an especially important ceremony when courting humans and beastmen: fairy food can often cause lasting damages to those that consume it without permission. By offering their food to you and your kin, they are welcoming you into their world and telling you that they will never intentionally bestow harm to you or your kin. If you choose to accept the food, then you agree to do the same til the end of your days.

Lilia is a strange case, having already lived a long life and being well traveled, a gleeful participant in the strange customs and traditions of humans and beastmen. He'd much rather participate in other's dating and courtship rituals than his own people's. It's fascinating how fleeting the process can be, yet it can result in everlasting devotion. Don't mistake his flexible nature for disinterest, however. He's still a fae, and if you start finding silly little knickknacks of his on their desk, you can expect to never be rid of him.

The Draconia family-line is steadfast in their traditions, even if Lilia raised the latest prince. So don't expect anything other than the previously explained rituals from Malleus, even if you're not aware of them. Taking gems, jewelry, and clothing made of the finest material you'll ever lay hands from his hoard means little to him if it means you'll accept the gift (and him). Even if you aren't aware of how courtship works, the moment you pick up the black ring with the big oval emerald and Briar Valley crest, you're practically engaged in his eyes.

The courtship is long, even for Malleus who was one step away at every turn to skip over the entire thing in favor of just eloping. All for the person who decided that the great and terrifying Malleus Draconia was actually just a simple Mr. Hornton, a friend, companion who just wanted someone to stay by his side. If it means calling you his spouse, his fellow ruler, and the only love of his life even a moment sooner, then he'd be willing to throw tradition and ritual out of the very tall tower window just to do so.

Many years later, when you reminiscing how the two of you first met, and how long it took you to notice his feelings, you'll offhandedly mention the random gifts you found at your doorstep. How you wish you knew who was leaving those precious stones and golden amulets with no indication on who the admirer was. Upon further questioning, you'll tell him that you didn't even know you were being courted until two months into the ritual. It'll then click in Malleus's mind how utterly lucky he was that the two of you even got together in the first place.

It may be surprising, but human-mer relations have been extraordinarily rare. Only a handful of them have popped up since the times of the Sea Princess, who left her home for a human prince. In fact, you could probably count them on one hand! Perhaps this is due to the difficulties of having a romance between land dwellers and undersea folk; after all, it's much easier for humans, fae, and beastmen to interact when they all live on land. Merfolk can come up to the surface, and have been doing moreso in the last century, but having a relationship with someone who quite literally could not breathe in the same air/water as you is near impossible. At least, not without significant effort on one or the other's part.

Nearly all the human-mer romances that have occurred in history resulted in either one or the other abandoning their home to turn into a human/mer and live the rest of their days with their love in their new world. Certainly a romantic notion to be sure, but it most definitely require their love to be truly eternal. Or else you might run the risk of resentment brewing between the two. With a slowly growing need to easy access transformation potions and spells for business and diplomatic reasons, such romance is not far from reach, at least for those with money to spare. The next issue though would be the significant difference between land dweller and undersea folk's courting methods.

Perhaps it can be contributed to the more...feral nature of merfolk. Most of them still retain more animalistic features and behaviors than the average beastman. The twins are no exception to this. Even if you were to remove their claws, mucus covered skin, and 6-ft tail, you're still left with eyes suited for a deep-sea predator, nose that can smell the tiniest drop of blood in a pool, and rows of razor sharp teeth begging to bite down on your neck. The deep-sea is not only cold, but quite ruthless. So, it'll probably come as no surprise that moray eels will prove themselves as suitable partners by fighting either their competitors or you. If they can prove that they can hold their own, protect you from the horrors of the deep, then they have the right to go for your heart. That's not to say softer sentiments don't exist, and while similar the twins are still two separate people with different tastes. These tastes show during courting, though mers have a more casual date-like ritual.

Like fae, merfolk court via gifts, particularly handmade or ones they found themselves, and Floyd is awfully fond if gifting you the strangest things. A tooth that was knocked out from the student who shoved you a little too hard, a rock you tripped over in P.E., or a sand dollar he found on a trip to the beach were a few of the many items he gave you. Jade is similar, though he's more fond of making his own gifts. A necklace made of seashells found at the beach you had your first date in, a terrarium he made from plants that remind him of you, but your favorite was the small garden he started tending to on your kitchen windowsill. Breakfast was particularly delicious when made with his fresh mushrooms. Expect soon after the gifts lots of physical affection, public and private.

Don't be mistaken, they'll still bully you. But each of Floyd's bone-crushing hugs will be accompanied by a soft headbump from his forehead to yours. Jade's teasing, mean remarks will follow with a swift, sweet peck to your knuckles. They'll grab your notebook and hold it above their head until you agree to give them a kiss or punch them in the stomach, both are acceptable responses. Be a little mean back, they like the idea of a sweet and cute little human that can throw a punch. Your their sweet little human, and you make life in the deep exciting. Just don't ask about their flushed face every time they see you yawn, they aren't quite ready to explain that one yet.

Azul intensely studied a variety of topics before coming to land, even briefly glossing over dating, romance, and marriage before deciding he wouldn't need it anytime soon. He regretted that soon after meeting you, though he made do with what he knew. And what he knew as food. A combination of octo-mer courtship and being the son of a cook, Azul will discreetly court you by personally cooking and feeding you your favorite meals. It's the result of the dangers of ancient octo-mers eating their spouses after mating. Afterall you can't eat more if your already full. While not something they have to worry about now, it's an old ritual still used today, Azul has hear the way to a person's heart is their stomach and can wholeheartedly agree.

What's surprised you the most was what followed after, especially for someone as physically reserved as Azul: octo-mers are extremely clingy and affectionate. He doesn't have the heart to do anything more than handholding and chaste kisses to your cheeks in public, but he yearns to wrap all 8 tentacles and two arms around you so tightly that your gasping for a breath that he steals with his lips. He won't mention it, but he can taste the salt from your skin and the pulse from your wrists with his suckers. Take it from someone who grew up with a refined palate, he thinks your taste is equivalent to ambrosia from the gods, though that might be the lovesickness speaking.

i have a hard time writing savanaclaw for some reason, but imma working on it now! also tagging for all the guys is stressful idk what i should enter, like fullname or just first name idk man!! pls reblog and comment! lmk what you time, xoxo

[moondirti]

big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.

if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.

and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.

so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.

it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?

granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.

jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.

until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.

because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.

by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.

it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.

and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.

johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?

he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.

"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.

"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."

he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.

besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.

but–

"are you a doctor?"

"n-no."

"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."

he just can't help himself.

over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.

his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.

on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.

then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.

"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?

"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."

"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."

and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:

you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"

ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.

"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.

"hm."

"is this how it usually-"

"sometimes."

"oh."

"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.

a few moments later, you speak up again.

"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."

he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.

"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."

you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."

and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.

if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.

[snowflop]

[Engage leaks discussion in the tags ✌]

[knavesflames]

I come bearing an ask

Here me out: Arlecchino x pregnant!reader (who was already unsure if she wanted to go thru w the pregnancy + was scared of her body changing) where

Reader is in early pregnancy and she's starting to show a bit of a bump, BUT her and Arle haven't told anyone. So, one day while they're out, they encounter either 1 of Reader's family members or just someone she knows and they make a comment about her weight gain unknowingly which leads to reader uncontrollably crying

What does Arle do in that situation? Beat em up? Tend to her wife? A bit of both? Maybe threaten them?

Thank you for taking the time to read this!!! And thank you again if you consider write it!!

Hi! Sorry this has taken so long to get to, I have a major backlog of requests and I like to go in chronological order if I can. Anyway, here it is. I’ve never been pregnant or really around anyone who has been so I have NO idea how this works sorry 😭

Word count: 733

Contents: fluff, pregnant reader

UTC!

The day you realised your period was late was a day you’re sure you’ll remember forever. The dread you felt as you drove to the store as quickly as possible, practically slamming the box onto the counter as you paid. Then, of course, the wait. How stupid, you think. To have pissed on a stick and wait anxiously for some lines. Lines that could possibly change your life. You didn’t really want that. You’ve not wanted that, not since you were a teen, when you became conscious of your body. You swore you’d never get pregnant, you couldn’t deal with your body changing. You know you couldn’t.

Then, the wait was over, and the result was not what you wanted. You remember how your hands trembled as thousands of different thoughts ran through your head. You remember sitting on the toilet lid with your head in your hands for hours until you heard the soft click of the front door. The way you told her, your voice weak, your eyes filled with uncertainty, is something Arlecchino won’t forget.

She reassured you that whatever you chose was okay, that if you didn’t want to go through with it then she’d support you, and the same if you decided you wanted to go through with it. You spent a week deciding, but when you were in the city, your eyes caught a glimpse of the smallest little baby socks and your already growing maternal instincts kicked in instantly. The second you came home, you announced you wanted to keep it, though after conversation, you admitted you were scared. She promised that even when your body changed, she’d love you regardless. That anyone who commented would face her wrath. You knew she was serious, too.

So, of course, that brings you to the day when your bump starts showing. Arlecchino is in love with it, her hand resting on it whenever you’re sat together, her arm shielding you whenever you go outside if she senses danger. And she’s snapped at a person or two when they’ve bumped into you. Her sense of danger has been warped into whatever could possibly harm you and the child, though neither of you have told anyone yet. Your request, she’d tell the world if she could. She relaxes a bit when you meet an old friend, someone you haven’t met in years. You were quite close, she recalls. Even so, she stays by your side, listening to your conversation with a polite hum in response when she’s asked a question. Her ears perk up though, when the conversation takes a turn.

“Mm, you’ve gotten a little pudgy, haven’t you? Swollen in the face a bit, too. Cute.” A harmless comment usually, but for you, it’s a blow, and she knows it. She knows it the second the words are spoken, the way your face falls and your hands cover yourself. The way your eyes fall to the floor and your attempt at laughing. Your laugh is strained, though, your voice thick. Another ten seconds, and cue an outburst of tears. This is exactly what you didn’t want, for people to comment on your weight gain. For you, it’s been the worst symptom of them all. Arlecchino’s arm immediately wraps around you, her voice cold.

“Do not talk about someone’s body in such a manner. You should not be commenting on anyone’s body anyway, let alone her’s. You’ve known her for years, haven’t you? You should know how sensitive she is to comments like that,” between your tears, you can hear her speaking, almost snarling. She’s always been protective, but perhaps she’s gotten even more so since the news. “If I ever hear you speak about her in such a way again, if you ever make her shed another tear, I will break you. Understand?”

The old friend is quick to apologise and scurry off, leaving you, a tearful mess, and a sighing Arlecchino. Placing soft kisses into your hair, she strokes your arm, thinking of a way she can make you feel better. She opts to whisper all the good things about gaining weight while pregnant until she sees your tears stop.

“Now, do you want that craving we originally came out here for?” She asks, a smile tugging at her lips when you immediately nod and start complaining about how you really can’t live without peanut butter and pickles.