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just-fox-lol · 2 days

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GIVING THEM A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread…:3

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . how would your significant other react when you give them a friendship bracelet made by your own kind hands?

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, kazuha, kokomi, scaramouche, heizou, itto, cyno, lyney, lynette, freminet, furina, neuvillette, navia, ga ming, chiori, arlecchino

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . this reminded of primary school days of making randomly coloured loom band bracelets…sniffles, the good ol’ days of giving your crush bundled up daisies that had bugs on them from the schools yard and then immediately running away (i am a lesbian i had no such experience in just talking for the sake of poetry ☆〜（ゝ。∂)

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

“what’s this, my love?” he cautiously surveyed the tiny strings and charms with a shocked yet rather satisfied expression. so this is what you were so focused on for the last couple hours…? he can’t help but feel slightly relieved that instead of wasting away at work you were merely crafting a cutely childish gift for him.

“it’s a friendship bracelet! look, i even managed to find these cute strawberry charms for you.” you laughed and start fiddling with the short strands near his scalp, fiddling with them and folding them over to create a stem-like shape.

diluc softly exhaled in amusement, wrapping the small piece of jewellery around his already bedazzled wrist. it takes him a real good second to actually realise what you just said. awkwardly coughing into his hand, diluc catches your attention, “darling, you do realise we’re married?”

a smile possesses your face as you hook your arm with his. “of course i do! i just thought it’d be cute, you know?” he smiled in response.

diluc is no stranger to friendship bracelets. after all, him and kaeya used to make those for each other all the time. sometimes that young triplet consisting of a very dedicated jean, a shy kaeya and a mischievous diluc (sometimes a cutsey barbara who tried to eat the beads) would gather together to create and exchange such bracelets.

a tradition that diluc might’ve let go of but had never forgotten. when you go to sleep at night diluc immediately places your bracelet into a drawer where he kept all of the ones from his childhood.

K. KAZUHA — 枫原万叶

“is this a friendship bracelet? that’s very considerate of you, my love.” kazuha tilts your chin to press a feather-light kiss onto your lips, his touch so tender it was like being touched by sunlight itself. “but i thought we were passed our journey of friendship?” his hand travel down to your hips. squeezing them intently to bring you close to his flowery scent.

“or do i need to remind you that we’re lovers?” taking your hand in his, kazuha leaned his head down to press his lips against your knuckles, eyes peeking through his bangs as if to entice you. and, well, of course it did. kazuha knew just a simple glance at you paired with an affectionate grin was enough to lure you into loving his arms.

kazuha didn’t expect for a piece of handmade jewellery consisting of maple leaf charms with red string to become so sentimental to him, but it was only a matter of time till the bracelet helped become an engraved memory of you. he’d kiss it each time you were apart, hold it up against moonlight while stargazing, trying to illustrate your figure within a constellation.

wandering became more exciting. he’d get to slowly part from your lips, while still having a perpetual reminder of the love you shared with a few pieces of strings tied to his wrist alone.

kazuha, though content with this, always secretly craved to hear the sound of your voice as you called his name and reached out to him. however, within his life he’s learned one thing that has truly stood out; it’s the small things in life that mirror true beauty.

S. KOKOMI — 珊瑚宫心海

“your excellency? what is that on your wrist?” gorou tilted his head curiously, his ears twitching in tandem.

“hm? oh, this?” she shakes the coral coloured bracelet, making the beads and fish charms jingle excitedly as if they were jumping within sea waves. “haha, [name] gave it to me. it’s a friendship bracelet!” kokomi shows it off with pride, a flutter of flapping fins hit her ribcage in the form of her beating heart at the prospect of people seeing the deepness of your ocean-depth bond with just a few beads on a string.

burnout is utterly debilitating. as kokomi spends only a few minutes in her recluse corner within watatsumi, even the shimmering of pearls and the quiet sound of the shore isn’t enough to bring her fragmented energy to rest. nesting her head upon the bundled arms that laid carefully on her desk, she attempted to snooze. finding that she can just barely flutter her curled eyelashes close before an unbearable ache pinches her eyebrows into a knot.

feeling defeated, kokomi sits back up and taps her fingers absentmindedly on the wood, finding just a tiny bit of solace in the sound of clicking and clacking. wait…she quickly glanced at her wrist, noticing she completely forgot to take off her bracelet when preforming her duties. despite her fatigue, kokomi can’t help but exhale a smile. calloused fingers tweezing the bubbly fish charms in an attempt for stimuli that wasn’t so agonising.

she’s so glad she has you, even if that memory of you is withheld in something children share for an intended promise of foreverness.

SCARAMOUCHE — 斯卡拉姆齐

“are you twelve?“ scaramouche raises his eyebrows at you with a sneer, a look of either disgust or confusion on his face. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were mocking me.”

“you’re short but not kid short!” you retorted to appease him, rolling your eyes at his annoying theatrics. did he really have to be so bitchy all the time? i guess when people say that short people tend to be the most angry because all that wrath is bottled into such a teeny body it’s very true…

the friendship bracelets (yes you made two!) were a representation of his journey from the malicious “balladeer” to the slightly less malicious and more so bittersweet wanderer. a contradicting colour palette yet his frosty and asshole attitude remained the same no matter what hue of the rainbow he was dipped in (should’ve been named skittle not scaramouche).

“if you don’t like it that much you don’t have to wear it, it’s not like i’m forcing you.” a pang of disappointed squeezed your chest heavily. it would’ve been fine if he just threw it away after a week or so. you would’ve been extremely hurt yes, but it’s better than having your own lover reject a handmade gift without even a thought for your feelings.

seeing your frown lines and the way your eyebrows scrunched together, scaramouche sighed and immediately snatched the bracelets back. quickly covering them over his wrist and crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. “i never said i wouldn’t wear it, stop being whiny.”

the slight embarrassment he felt was worth every stroke of blush on his cheeks if it meant he could see you smile brightly at something so childish.

S. HEIZOU — 鹿野院平藏

“it’s not our anniversary.” heizou stated simply.

“nope.”

“neither of our birthdays.”

“nope.”

“not a special achievement either.”

“nope.”

“alright, love, spill. what’s the occasion, hm? just in the mood to spoil me with your affections?” heizou threw his hands up in defeat. not being able to use his detective experience into deciphering why you decided to be so cute today and bless his otherwise uneventful day.

carefully, you wrapped the bracelet around his eager wrist. “no occasion~ just felt like giving you a friendship bracelet to show my love for you.” he raises an eyebrow. leaning to your eye level, heizou procures a look of confused distaste at your seemingly innocent admission. “friendship?” he looks away dejected, placing his hands on his hips. “and here i thought i was your very cool and sweet boyfriend.”

brushing away his dramatics and looping your arms around his neck to pull his pouty face in closer, you retaliate. “oh hush, you’re still my lovely dramatic boyfriend.” heizou smirked and leaned in impossibly close, his breath tickling your soft skin generously.

“then, could you show your love for me in another way too?” begrudgingly, you caved. moulding your lips with his while his hands gradually situated themselves on your hips. a chuckle escapes his occupied mouth, leaving a tingling feeling down your spine as you pull away, a bright smirk on his face. “thanks for the bracelet, baby~ i’ll be sure to wear it as my lucky charm during investigations!”

A. ITTO — 荒泷一斗

“well of course you’d want to bless the almighty arataki itto with such a gift! i humbly accept your offering~” itto sways a thumbs up, tongue rolling across his pointy teeth in an extravagant display of confident hubris. all in vain, of course. no amount of bravado could dull the charming blush on his cheeks; the way his grin hoisted into a genuine smile of gratitude or the way his eyes glistened with a familiar light; childlike wonder.

itto was never and has never been accustomed to such small things in life. honestly, he was lucky for a stranger to not throw insults, physical objects, hits, kicks, spit, and the like for his mere existence. a friendship bracelet was an event that was so far out of reach for the oni that the only thing he wanted to do right now was to kiss you stupid.

but, he couldn’t. he stood still, twiddling with the beads that nested against his wrist with a haze that was absentminded you felt like tapping him would cause a bubble to burst above his head for water to splash him awake.

the word “friend” doesn’t even register into his brain. he’s too content with the knowledge that your bond meant something to you. that he meant something to you.

you’ve never seen itto so quiet before. he’s usually this giant (literally) ball of energy that bounces around the place and shares an infectious attitude of confidence and joy with no restraint even to the most stoic, but right now, it was like he was that small vulnerable child again given a chance at redemption for simply living.

CYNO — 赛诺

cyno tilts his head to the side as he stares with pinched brows at the weaved threads of purple and yellow beads and charms that you held in front of you with a delicate hand. “what’s the bracelet for?”

“it’s a friendship bracelet!” taking the initiative, you wrap the bracelet around his relatively small wrist and watch in awe as it seems to match his palette perfectly. perhaps not his personality, but maybe if he wore this around regularly people wouldn’t be so frightened by his frozen features.

cyno went quiet for a moment, a look of confusion on his face. a look that made you shrink in shame. did he not like it? was something wrong with it? is it too childish for someone with such an esteemed status? all such baseless thoughts get immediately dispelled once cyno’s lips curl into a subtle grin, his eyes narrowing devilishly.

you’ve often seen this look when he’s about to score a rewarding win in a tcg tournament. but, he also had this look when…fuck. you sigh in defeat and simply let him say it. “why did the friendship bracelet break up with its partner?”

“…ha. why?”

“because it felt tied down.”

you know how in animes when someone says something very fucking stupid, it’s like the world echoes with silence to allow the person to truly feel the embarrassment from their words? you hoped that’s what cyno felt when you blank stared him with a thin line for your lips, hands clenching and unclenching as you fought the urge to squeeze his cheeks together.

“do you get it?” he asks, but before he can ramble about the absolutely articulate construction of his pun, you spring into action and press your lips passionately on his. of course, he replies eagerly. enjoying the clicking of the beads hitting together as his hand made it’s swift, instinctive movement to your waist.

LYNEY — 林尼

“mon ange…is this for me?” lyney smiles gently at you, sneaking the red bracelet onto his wrist. unable to take his away from the fine craftsmanship and the adorable details of hats, doves and some card charms. knowing you thought of him so directly and so in depth made his heart flutter the same way a dove’s wings expand after being liberated from a cooped cage.

“of course it is, it’s a friendship bracelet!” you clasp your hands behind your back, awaiting either his praise or his teasing — whatever he was in the mood for more. despite the happiness that surged through his heart like a bad game of throw the dart, believe me you shot him hard in the feels, lyney frowns.

“but, mon chéri…” he sighs in despair, a theatric hand over the very heart you had gripped tightly in your hand with a mere few beads of coloured wax. “i haven’t gotten a gift for you, i feel rather ashamed of myself.”

“don’t worry about that, this is just meant to be my good luck charm for you during your shows and…” your voice trailed off to him. not because he was uninterested but because he loved the buzzing sound of your melodic syllables each time your lips opened.

“ah, my dear,” lyney paused your affectionate rambles politely, “you’ve got something here…” you tilt your head to the side quizzically and await for him to point at it or take it out. he grins wildly. “well, isn’t that cute?” lyney chuckles softly and while leaning suuuper close to your ear, ‘magically’ pulls out a rainbow rose from seemingly no where.

“it seems we’re even now, hm?” he gestures, handing the rose over with a wink, leaving a cheeky kiss to your jawline in gratitude.

LYNETTE — 琳妮特

knowing lynette’s character and demeanour intricately, you’re aware that grand gestures aren’t at all her thing. she can barely handle a tea time conversation with someone if she’s forced to play an active role.

the bracelet sat enclosed within your palm as you rambled on about your day to lynette, feeling an unshakable amount of anxiety vomiting into your gut for no reason but overthinking. you’ve been avoiding giving her this bracelet for a week now in fear she’ll find very little value or use in something so minimal.

“you have something you want to give me.” a phrase intended as a question, but said more so as a statement.

“i…uh, how did you know?” you laugh and play with the strings of the bracelet cautiously as to not break it.

“your eyebrows are furrowed and you keep glancing away from me.” she analyses you like a real robot…i guess she’s really committed to that bit. either that or she just loves you too much that being unable to read your expressions would be a grievous sin on her part.

with a sigh of defeat, you slide over the bracelet to her with an awkward smile paling your usually joyous lips. “i made a friendship bracelet for you…thought it’d be cute.” lynette doesn’t understand people around her a majority of the time. truly, she doesn’t even want to, it’s not like she needs to either since she has her brother to leech on and others to fool with her robotic party trick and yet, she can’t help but wonder why it is you choose to defend yourself over something so sweet.

“thank you, it’s cute. i’ll wear it for my next show if i’m able to.” her lips curve upward in what to most would seem like a twenty degree uplift, but to you, it meant quite literally everything.

FREMINET — 菲米尼

nothing. no amount of experiences with his interactions with people could’ve prepared him for the absolute heart attack that was this gesture.

he loved it, too much. he wishes he could just dip back into the ocean depths. indulge in a meaningless conversation with the tidalga, or even express his feelings of adoration to you to pers. but currently, it was only you two sharing a humble moment together. no person he could lean in, no space he could rush the words he’d love to say to you in gratitude for the gift.

and you knew that. and that’s what he also loved about you. how willing you were to accept and love him even with him being less socially adept than a coral reef. feeling the cool and vibrant coloured bracelet tilt around his wrist and knot in place, he smiled wobbly.

between the silence, you knew that the quiet smile and nod meant more than his stammered and hushed words could ever express. leaning in to press a kiss to the side of his wrist and cheek, freminet manages to gulp a bit of courage and swallow his static and tingly anxiety, reaching to kiss your forehead. letting his lips linger momentarily before he backed away. “thank you…”

FURINA — 芙宁娜

heartbeat pounding in her ears. eyes narrowing into puffy circles. her bottom lip bitten brutally by her gnashing teeth. hands shaky, making her teacup tremble within her grip. why were you glaring at her so intensely?!

first the invitation for a tea party with only you two as the special guests. second the ominous letter claiming you two “need to talk.” and now, you were completely quiet and calmly snacking, drinking away several blends of tea without a word! it was absolutely ridiculous to think the one person she has entrusted her still mending heart with is ignoring all the clear signs of hesitance and vulnerabilities within the relationship despite them all being initiated by them!

“so, furina.” you clasp your hands together, an impish look transforming your usually peaceful face. her heartbeat stammers as her eyes meet yours in a tender glance. “uhm..yeah?” furina attempts to appear more courageous than she is, but truly, she’s shitting it (for lack of a better term).

the silence stretched on for too long before you giggled and pulled up a blue and white toned bracelet from your sleeves, shaking it with your fingertips with a kind smile. “i made you a friendship bracelet!”

a ghost wavered out of her frightened soul, the tea in her hand put down at this point so she can savour the comforting feeling of her head in her hands. being a gorgeous, shining star in the spotlight of fontaine’s grand stage, furina isn’t a secondhand stranger to gifts. whether they’ve been given to her personally, awkwardly, silently, with no words signed or a creepy letter attached expressing their reverence.

she wishes you’d sometimes go that route instead of matching her in these theatrics! begrudgingly, despite the little flutter in her heart, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and looked at you with a pout that you couldn’t help but lean in to kiss.

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

neuvillette hums a tune along to the orchestra of the vinyl. an accompanying sound of his pen hastily itching onto the paper adding to the rhythm. his door opens and while he’d normally remain quietly focused on his piling paperwork, he recognised this particular patter of footsteps coming towards him. you.

smiling habitually and peering his head up, neuvillette greeted you lovingly. “hello, my love. what brings you here today? did you get in trouble?” he knew the reason you’d come ushering into his office was hardly with the intention of getting him to aid you with your troublesome quarrels, but rather, you just wanting his love and affection that he was more than willing to fulfil. if time allowed, of course.

“no, no. nothing like that, yet…” you grinned and neuvillette looked at you with a playful look of disappointment at the hesitance. “i made you a gift!” with a prideful aura that was less arrogance and more pure joy, you presented the bracelet to him. he wasted no time in stirring the small bundle of fabric and beads with his gloves. “look,” you pointed eagerly, “i even managed to commission some furina and melusine charms! you know how we always joke about them being like our children? i thought i’d be a cute addition!”

he exhaled a satisfactory laugh in agreement, interlocking your hand in his to press a kiss to your knuckles in thanks. “cute, indeed. thank you, mon chéri. you’re too sweet sometimes.” you sit on the edge of his desk, watching excitedly as he places the bracelet onto his wrist. “as a gift in return, after i’m done with work, how about we take a nice stroll together? i assure you, no rain will interrupt our serenity so long as you’re by my side.”

NAVIA — 娜维娅

immediately gushes at you as your palm opens to present the gold and blue hued bracelet to her, adorned with rose charms that you personally painted in gold and a greyish blue to accentuate her outfit if she decides to wear it. it was less a decision and more a necessity.

she delicately handled the bracelet onto her wrist and kissed both of your cheeks in gratitude, “thank you so much, sweetheart! this is so cute…but what’s the occasion? it’s not our anniversary or anything like that.” navia smiled at you, playing with some of the little roses and twirling them around in appreciation.

“it’s a friendship bracelet!”

her lips pucker into a pout as she starts to coddle you within her arms, occasionally swinging you around gently. “you’re so absolutely adorable!” she nips at your earlobe, kissing it as a form of apology. “but honey, you do know we aren’t just friends right?” navia captures your cheeks within her palms. “we’re lovers!” she presses several kisses across your face, ending her affectionate spillage with a press of her lips on yours.

“oops— haha, sorry i got lipstick all over you, darling.” navia chuckled and began wiping away all the lipstick smudges from your pretty face. yet her attempts bore no fruit. instead of wiping away anything, she only made it oh so much worse. “ah well, guess we both got presents from one another today?” she snickers, twirling her wrist to show off the bracelet with a wink.

GA MING — 嘉明

if you thought this man’s eyes couldn’t get any brighter, then you’re absolutely dead wrong. if you thought he could jump high while lion dancing, you’re also absolutely dead wrong!

he could outrun god right now. if you asked him to defeat a hoard of lined up mondstadt and liyue treasure hoarders, he’d do it in a heartbeat. what possessed you to be so cute?! do you seriously think he can take another heart attack like this after the one he had during lantern rite?

you aren’t able to say much or even explain your reasons for as to why you decided to make this nor what it even is or represents before ga ming smacks his lips messily all over your face. a mixture of your own gloss from kissing you earlier and his own saliva stick to your skin sloppily and you can’t help but feel both enamoured and grossly repulsed at the mixture of sticky wetness on your cheeks as well as the love that seemed to glow like fireworks.

“mmuah~! i love you so much…are you trying to make me cry?” he pouts, becoming a giggling mess as soon as you roll your eyes at his dramatics.

he keeps the bracelet on every day. sometimes he’ll be pouty all day if he’s unable to wear it in fear of it snapping and wasting away all your precious hard work due to either his negligence or the pains of manual labour…he’ll have to cope with simply glancing at the red imprints the beads had left intended onto his skin for satisfaction.

CHIORI — 千织

“what is this?” she jingles the vivid and strong orange coloured bracelet in front of her face, appreciating the tiny details of the cute sewing equipment charms and what looked to be handmade porcelain bows embedded onto some beads.

“it’s a friendship bracelet!” you gleam at her, pride evident in your face at your creation. she hums in agreement; it was certainly something alright.

“oh. cute.” that’s all the genuine feedback she could give you without mentioning how tacky it would look with her attire — it was an affectionate gesture, one which she didn’t want to undermine and therefore, with little complaint despite her own personal conflicts, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist, extending her hand out and twirling it to admire the craftsmanship.

you won’t see her actively wearing it out in every day life, perhaps you’ll manage to sneak a glimpse of her playing with the beads while she’s going over some designs in her sketchbook but otherwise, her gloved hands contain nothing but the smell of perfume.

not that she’d admit it outright until you asked, but the real reason she refuses to wear your bracelet daily is for a simple reason; she doesn’t want it to break in order to have that constant reminder of you as she goes to bed and stares up at her ceiling with the bracelet being coddled between her fingertips.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

“you’re so childish.” she muses, tracing her nails across the beads, eliciting a weird clacking sound as the charms and beads hit against each other. “but i suppose that’s also an alluring aspect to you.” she ushers the bracelet onto her wrist. despite it being completely covered, there was something even more intimate about her gift being a part of a hidden identity for her; your affection only intended for your gorgeous eyes and her narrowed ones.

tilting your head to her eye-level, you can smell her musky perfume. she leaned in for a kiss. her lips tasting like flavoured gloss consisting of all sorts of red berries, an accurate mirror to the rosey colour of her bright lips. a sneaky hand traced circles around your hips and waist as she attempted to take your breath away. a scythe is a befitting weapon for a woman who’s kiss was practically a notion for death.

she’s used to her children offering gifts and trinkets to her. rocks, random jewellery they crafted with glue, messy crayon drawings, sometimes even in the most macabre scenarios, blood itself. each of those, however, she cherished wholeheartedly. the same way she’d cherish the bond between you two that she’d never allow for anyone to break.

so long as she continuously receives silly gestures like this, she’s convinced she’ll be able to hold you within her embrace with very little effort.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

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bloodsucker.

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negotiations.

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sitting ducks.

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wraith.

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human.

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more backstory that i wrote up for patreon heh:

Simon and Tommy had a complicated relationship as brothers.

At a young age, Simon basically wrote himself off as a lost cause, and did the best he could to make sure at least Tommy had a chance to be a functioning human being. After all, Tommy was the gentler brother, the dreamer, the one who looked like their mother (who'd walked out on them years ago to escape their father). But Tommy got bitter, got sick of the one always being protected, being babied. He lost respect for Simon, for the way he wouldn't fight back, and in a twisted way, grew closer to his father as a way to learn how to be powerful, strong. It backfired, and Tommy got wrapped up in some bad business.

Simon's kid brother died while he was deployed. He got the news in the letter, and it broke him in a big way. In the story timeline, it was years and years ago but it still hurts like hell whenever Simon thinks about him.

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mr riley.

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It's Aro-Spec Awareness Week again my friends, and that means it's time for more silly little critters! (You can find last year's here.) ✨Keep up the amazing work, fellow aros✨

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diplomacy.

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Borders 🚧

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Ghost who has a medusa tattoo that covers most of his upper thigh and hip and Soap who can’t help but feel a little bit of rage anytime he sees it pop up.

a drabble from me thinking about ghosts backstory my poor little government sanctioned killer

anyway content warning for ghosts backstory mention

Ghost only sleeps without a shirt and in shorts when it’s sweltering hot. He’s never fully uncovered. Soap’s fine with that, he doesn’t care at all.

But it’s hot days like this where he’s lounging in bed in his boxers and he’s watching Simon get ready in the bathroom that he can’t help but feel a little angry. Thin snakes poke out from the band of his shorts. Over his hip, curling around and looking at John with hot glares he didn’t realize somebody could make snakes have. Hiding in the soft skin behind Simon’s knee.

The snakes look angry and protective in the way they stretch out and curl around Simon. John’s never seen the full thing. He isn’t sure he wants to. He feels angry just seeing the small amount of the tattoo.

“I can feel you looking at me,” Simon says. John looks up from the back of Simon’s knee and meets his eyes in the mirror. Simon’s rubbing what he thinks is moisturizer into his jaw still. Simon turns and looks at John over his shoulder.

“I love you,” John sighs, “so much.”

Simon slightly raises both of his eyebrows. “I love you, too.” He turns back to the sink and washes his hands. John doesn’t miss the way Simon doesn’t look into the mirror. John’s eyes drop back down to the snake glaring at him from Simon’s hipbone. He wonders if he’ll turn to stone.

Simon smacks all of the lights off, crawling into bed with only the soft light of the lamp that stays on forever. He curls up on the edge and John can’t fight the smile as he raises his arm and Simon scoots back until they’re flush against each other.

John can’t help the way he gently brushes his hand over Simon’s hip, down over the shorts and back up. He sighs heavily. Simon tangles the fingers of John’s other hand and his hand together. “Why’re you breathing like that? It’s not thinking time it’s sleeping time. Go to sleep.”

John hums softly. He brushes his lips against Simon’s neck, kissing a freckle he knows is there. The silence settles again, but John doesn’t stop thinking. He doesn’t stop thinking about how Simon deserved sweetness. He didn’t deserve half the things that happened to him, and they happened anyway. What kind of world do they live in if good people are crushed into a box that makes them hurt? If Simon was a little weaker would he have been poisoned by the word of his father? Would Roba have broken him down into a brainwashed soldier.

“Sleeping,” Simon says again, “Not thinking.”

“Sorry, hen,” John whispers. He rubs his thumb along Simon’s hip and thigh again and he huffs out another sigh to quell the bubbling irritation.

Simon kicks off the blanket and rolls onto his other side. “What could have possibly crawled up your ass in the ten minutes it took for me to get ready for bed?” He glares mildly at John.

Simon looks mildly irritated and a little concerned. John loves the way his hair flops across his forehead. “You deserved better things.” When Simon had flipped over he had let go of his hand, but had also placed his hip near it. John runs his thumb over the tattoo. Simon’s face softens out into mildly exasperated and fond. “I get so angry when I think about everything everybody’s done to ye. I jus’… I wanna take it all away. I want you to have better memories.”

Simon has mentioned before that his good memories are far and few in between. Most are neural or not really bad or bad. And then some are worse.

“Johnny,” Simon says gently, “You’re sweet, but you’re gonna kill yourself with the amount of brain power it would take to mentally smite every person that has ever wronged me. I’m okay now. I’m happy now.” Simon traces shapes on John’s stomach. “That’s what matters.”

“I want you to be happy all the time.”

Simon smiles softly at that. He chuckles, too, which actually offends John a little bit. “You’re a sap, MacTavish,” Simon sits up on his elbow and drops a kiss between his eyebrows. “Think of it like this: If there was only one season, would we be able to appreciate the warmth of summer after the cold winter? Would we be able to appreciate the flowers blooming in spring after everything died the past autumn?” Simon settles back into his pillow. His fingers still trail gently along the lines of John’s muscles, even if they had paused when Simon had laughed at him. “We wouldnt. Because it would always be sunny and flowery and it would be the same all the time and we wouldn’t realize how beautiful the flowers are or how nice it is to not be frozen to the bone while waiting for some prick to come to a window so we can snipe him.”

John does see his point. He also thinks that the whole entire thing would have been a lot more cheesy and corny if Simon hadn’t thrown in the literal murder plot. He feels like he just watched a TV show from when he was a kid and realized the dark, disturbing meaning. “That was really cute and then it got kind of cheesy and then it got dark.”

Simon pinches his side. “Shut up. Do you get the moral of the fuckin’ story?”

John sighs. “You can’t appreciate being happy without being sad.” It’s corny and he hates it but Simon’s right so he hates it more.

Simon nods minutely. Then, he does the whole five yards of nonsense he does that includes using way more force than necessary to cover them both back up with the blanket he kicked off in a fit irritation and also manhandling John’s arms to hold him. “In my case it’s more appreciating not being traumatized every five business days, but, you know, the lesson differs from person to person.”

John can’t help the ugly snorting sound he makes. Simon squeezes their hands together, shuffling in his spot to get more comfortable. “That’s not funny.”

“You laughed.” John thinks Simon sounds a little smug. “Now sleep.”

John hides his face in between Simon’s shoulder blades so the nightlight lamp whatever the fuck it is in the corner doesn’t bother him all night and does exactly that.

Because Simon’s right, in the end, he’s happy now and frequently argues that he’s happier because of what he experienced. That because his dad was a complete prick and his captain sold him out and all of that other shit he’s able to appreciate the things he has now more because he knows what it’s like to not have them.

And, yeah, John’s heart sometimes shatters and rage spills into his chest when he thinks that there was a time that Simon wasn’t loved and cherished. But it’s okay because John can love and cherish and treat him well now to make up for when he wasn’t there. Some things John will never be able to fix, like that stupid lamp in the corner of the room that Simon refuses to turn off, but he can fix other things. He can fix Simon not knowing what it’s like to have nice surprises like chocolates on his pillow when he gets home or a hot meal when he finishes mowing the lawn or a warm towel after the shower that John had tossed into the dryer and pulled out seconds before.

Simon reaches back and smacks his side. “Sleeping,” John whispers against his spine, “Sleeping, Ah’m goin’ ta sleep.”

Simon grumbles out something that sounds like, loud ass brain.

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just-fox-lol · 3 months

Text

*when Gaz and Soap met for the first time*

Soap: where are you from?

Gaz: england

Soap: I'm sorry

Gaz, a little louder: england

Soap: no, I heard. I'm just sorry

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just-fox-lol · 3 months

Text

ghost soap who have been married for several years and are playing the “how long until they notice?” game.

Soap thinks it’s quite funny when Gaz tries to warn him about Simon’s… intricacies. “—and as long as you respect his personal bubble and his morning, afternoon and evening tea, you’ll live.”

Soap nods, thinks about how at home he makes Simon’s tea for him and scratches his scalp until he comes online for the day. “Thanks, mate. Honestly, he’s kind of intimidating.”

Of course, they grew even closer after Las Almas. Gaz had started teasing Ghost about having a soft spot for Soap, and they both denied it— waiting for somebody to notice that it was a giant squishy pocket of love.

(this ran away from me. anyway. have this completely unedited drabble/ficlet? idk. merry after christmas.

Soap watches Simon from across the rec room one morning. His husband is completely offline, Soap having been kicked out of his bunk after Simon fought his way out of his fourth nightmare, probably only running on a few hours of sleep. Soap watches Gaz and Price, both doing their own thing, and Soap risks it.

Soap nudges Simon away from the counter. “Go sit. I can make it.” Simon stares for a few moments, blinking long and slow, sleepy and not ready to be perceived by the world. Soap feels the eyes of their teammates on him, and also feels the tenseness of the moment.

Simon inhales, rubs his eyes and grunts, shuffling over to the table and sitting in a chair. Soap makes his tea, making sure the honey is fully dissolved before he takes a sip to make sure it’s perfect. He sees Gaz’s wide eyes in his peripheral vision. Simon grunts again when they make eye contact, holding out his hands for the mug.

Soap sets it carefully in his hands, and Simon breathes in the tea. He takes a long drink and makes a soft noise, a telltale sign of happiness. Soap smiles softly, repeating the noise back at him. Simon narrows his eyes at him. “Quit making fun of me.”

“I’d never,” Soap scratches Simon’s back through the hoodie he’s wearing for a second. “It’s cute,” he whispers, only for Simon’s ears. Soap wants to stay behind him, stay rubbing his back until Simon wakes up enough to function like a normal human being. Instead, he has to go yell at recruits.

/-/

Simon has had a temper since he met him. He gets any sort of negative emotion and it quickly spirals into anger, a leftover fault from his childhood. it’s the worst when he’s overstimulated, too much of everything usually ending in a petty argument when they’re home that has Simon coming back to him not when ten minutes later with his metaphorical tail between his legs and gently apologizing before taking a nap on Soap’s stomach under his sweater.

On base, it’s harder to notice. However, after a mission gone wrong, Ghost is pacing in the rec room, Price and Gaz watching him with nervous glances, waiting for him to lash out.

Soap settles on the couch with a tea, placing it on the coffee table and watching Simon pace back and forth, eventually snatching up the mug and holding it under his chin. A few minutes pass before he runs out of steam, stopping to pivot on his heel and glare at Gaz and Price. “C’mere.” Simon glares at him now, his gaze softening when Soap waves his hand. “C’mon,” he says, soft and gentle, “Come sit.”

Simon follows the suggestion, sitting near Soap, drinking his tea slowly and sinking into the cushion of the couch. “You did good,” Soap murmurs, guiding Simon to rest his head on his chest, “You can rest now, Si.”

“The fuck it look like ‘m doin’,” Simon grumbles at him, turning his head away from the lights and shoving his face in the gap between Soap and the back of the couch. Soap doesn’t bite back his smile, scratching Simon’s scalp gently with both of his hands and soothing the goosebumps that pop up on his neck. “Stressin’ me out, dirty slag,” he huffs a few seconds later.

Soap laughs gently, scratching behind Simon’s ears and kissing the top of his head. “Go to sleep.”

/-/

Soap walks into the rec room, immediately zoning in on Simon watching something on his phone with that intense look— the look he wears when he’s having feelings he doesn’t know what to do with— mask pulled up, covering his forehead in hair.

Soap wanders over, standing behind him on the couch and looking down at the phone. The privacy screen makes the image dull and blurry. “What’re you doin’?”

“Uh,” Simon tilts the phone, and the screen becomes clear, “Lookin’ at Tommy’s snapchats. He’s sending me old shite,” he mumbles.

Soap ignores the way Price’s head snaps up, looking at Simon with a surprised look on his face. Soap rests his head on Simon’s watching the silenced video. A younger, slightly leaner, very pissed off Simon stares at the phone with a blank stare. Tommy appears, a wide smile on his face. “So angry.”

“I literally got home and he had me doin’ shit,” Simon mumbles, scrolling through.

They had met the year Roba happened, early February at a café slash library. Soap had been wanting to finally read the Percy Jackson books again, and Simon had been sitting at the table reading a parenting book of all things. Soap had sat across from him, and they read in silence for weeks before Soap commented on his strange book choices— parenting, self-help, addiction recovery, mental health, fiction, non fiction, drama, romance, history, all in different orders. Soap hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut when Simon finished a book about Infants and then picked up a queer romance book Soap had read the week prior, “Respectfully what the fuck?”

Simon had smiled into his tea, flirted with him, and Soap had been… embarrassingly attracted to him.

Simon had called him Christmas Eve, rambling on about a fire and his family and Soap had asked, “What are you talking about, we’re out having dinner?” Because Beth had insisted they have dinner together, with or without Simon, before Soap made his way to his own family. And Simon had broken down, rambling on about a man called Roba in a way that had Soap shoving way too much money into Beth’s hands and sprinting to Simon’s location.

Simon had come home different— he had come home after they buried an empty coffin and Soap mourned what could have been the love of his life with Simon’s family— quiet, angry, distant. Hot and cold with Soap, begging for his attention one day before completely shutting him out.

Soap had found Simon trying to fist-fight the first responders— convinced his family was inside and dead— and had to pry him away and calm him down. Simon had packed them up and moved them to Scotland the week before their ‘meet-cute’ anniversary. He had reenlisted with Soap a few months later, after the every-day therapy sessions had cleared him.

Simon didn’t talk about his family— at all— he worried that even with Roba dead there would be another person out there waiting for him to slip up. Anybody who did any digging wouldn’t find any connection. Tommy had taken Beth’s name when they married, Joseph was enrolled under Soap’s (after discovering Joseph’s nursery schedule is what had led the men after Simon to the family) in a private school, and honestly Soap would lie about having an oops baby if it meant Simon would sleep a little better at night.

In Price’s eyes, Soap laying his head on Ghost and talking about his family probably seemed out of character. Simon opens the camera, and Soap smiles widely for the picture, Simon typing out a quick message before sending it off. “He’s gonna fuck up our 600 day streak if he doesn’t fuckin’ text me back.”

Soap cackles, walking to the pantry to get a snack.

/-/

“So,” Gaz says carefully, looking over his shoulder before scooting closer, “You and Ghost seem pretty close.” Considering we’re married, Soap thinks cheekily. “Got people callin’ you the Ghost-whisperer. You’re the only bastard who can take food off his plate and not see the wrath of the devil himself.”

Soap throws his head back with a laugh. “Ach, naw, he’s a sweetheart. Real nice.” Soap watches the recruits in front of him with a smile. Almost a year and a half into Soap being with the team, and nobody had even thought about them knowing each other.

Gaz chews on his mouth for a few seconds. “Mate, I gotta be real honest right now, and feel free to tell me to fuck off, but I heard that he was married. Like before he was Ghost—“ Gaz mimics tugging on a mask. “Price says he wears a set of rings on his tags— three real nice ones, too— do you know how in love you have to be with somebody to drop that much money on a wedding, engagement, and promise ring?” Soap did know, he was the one who had all of them custom made three years ago. He had agonized over the designs, Tommy stoping him from chickening out several times, and had a dent in his savings for months after. “And I noticed you guys kind of… you know. I just wanted you to know.”

“Ye think he’s cheating on his bird with me?” Soap asks, playing up the shock. “I mean… I sort of fancy him ‘nd all, but he never said anything about havin’ a girl at home.”

Gaz gives him a pep talk and a look of sympathy.

Later, Soap sneaks his way into Simon’s office, twirling the ring on his middle finger with a grin. Simon looks up before ignoring him for the report on his computer. “What’s got you lookin’ so smug.”

“Gaz knows you’re married.”

Simon raises an eyebrow, looking up at him again. “Uh-huh. So the game’s done, then?” Soap honestly thinks he looks pretty with his mask gone, grease smeared on his waterline, glasses held between his fingers.

“No. He thinks you’re married to a woman,” Soap says excitedly, “He thinks we’re havin’ ourselves an affair. I’m gonnae wear my ring on my wedding finger. See if any puzzle pieces fall into place.” Soap slides his ring off and hands it to Simon, watching his husband twirl the ring between his fingers. Soap holds his hand out, and Simon smiles gently as he slides it on the finger it goes on.

Simon looks at his hand, gently swiping his thumb along Soap’s knuckles. “I wanna take you out for dinner when we get home,” he mumbles, “To that diner you like. Take you shoppin’.”

Soap smiles, unable to contain the squishy-fluttery feeling Simon gives him.

/-/

Nobody notices Soap’s ring moving fingers.

They kick up their flirting several notches, drop hints, but nobody seems to pick it up.

Soap is packing his bags for leave, when Simon sneaks into his bunk. Soap smiles when he feels Ghost wrapping his arms around him and rocking them side to side. “Hey, baby,” Soap says, looking over his shoulder at Simon.

“Garrick asked if my wife knew about us.”

Soap really does feel like a gossiping wife when he gasps, “What did ye tell ‘im?”

Simon snorts. “I said yes. He just looked at me in disbelief. I think I traumatized him.” Simon leaves gentle kisses along his shoulder, squeezing him closer. “I Imagine we’re goin’ to have a chat with Price soon. Considering it’s illegal and all that.”

Soap hums.

/-/

The next day, they are called into Price’s office. Gaz is sitting guiltily on the couch, and Price looks more stressed than usual. Soap drops his duffel on the ground next to a chair and drops into it, followed by Simon.

“Reason yer callin’ me in here before my plane?” Soap settles in the seat, twisting his ring as a habit. He sees Price’s eyes catch on it, and he feels giddy about people noticing it before he realizes why they’re in here.

“I’m sorry,” Gaz blurts, “I just can’t have it on my conscious that Ghost has a girl back home and you’re… doing whatever it is you’re going.” He gestures between them.

Price drags his hand across his face, and Simon sighs dramatically, “Looks like the jig is up, Johnny.”

Soap slaps his hand against his forehead, because out of everything he could have said, that was not it.

“I mean— how could— you have a wife, Ghost!” Gaz gestures, clearly fighting his loyalty and his morals.

“I do have to admit, cheating isn’t something I expected of you, Simon.”

Soap decides to try and break the tension with a dramatic turn, “You’re cheating on me? After all I’ve done for you?”

Simon glares. “Yeah, I’m sick and tired of you not feeding the damn cat.” He sits up, counting on his fingers, “Your meatloaf is dry, you have a secret love child—“

“Joseph isn’t even blood related to me, you dramatic fuck, he’s only using my last name for his school!”

Simon scoffs.

Soap rolls his eyes, kicking Simon with his foot, “Gimmie your rings.” Simon takes off his dog tags, slides the rings off the chain and hands them over to Soap. Soap fits them together, leaning onto Price’s desk and leaving them there. He digs into his own duffel, pulling out his engagement ring and sliding off his wedding ring, fitting them together with Simon’s. He showcases it to Price. “Simon and I are married.”

Price looks baffled. Soap realizes what Simon said and— “You think my meatloaf is dry?”

Simon scoffs. “No, Johnny, your meatloaf isn’t dry. I could eat a whole pan of it but you don’t let me because other people need food too or some BS.”

“You’re married to each other?!“ Gaz looks shocked and relieved at the same time. “You let me warn you about how strange he is!! And you went along with it!”

“I honestly thoufht you would have realized by now…” Soap rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Sorry.”

They get scolded, and then Soap is congratulated for putting up with Ghost for so long. And then Ghost is congratulated for keeping Soap from killing himself via microwave explosions.

Everything is fine, in the end.

(Simon takes Johnny out for dinner when he joins him on leave, and takes him shopping. They’re in love.)

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