#random ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

[mokneydloaf]

[azu1as]

dumb atla fanfic idea: None of his royal tutors nor Uncle Iroh had prepared him for this kind of situation.

Which is why Zuko found himself at a complete loss when a small, blind girl approached him, poked him in the chest, then said, "You. Me. Life-changing field trip."

Or how Toph is thrown back in time and single-handedly ushers in an era of peace, questionable methods and otherwise.

[queeny-v]

Some sketches and whatnot ✍️ (my hand hurts doing Punkboy’s pose asdfghjkl)

[bronzebtch]

headcanon + valemen and what they eat — the vale's main cuisines are ... cheese. and more cheese. and a bit more cheese. in their defence, their cheese are cultivated from goat, sheep, cow (and for some lucky farmers, even buffalos) alike, and they're very good with experimenting w/ the process of it so they have many types of cheese cuisine. to compare to our world, it would create dishes like tartiflette, croziflette, fondue etc. they also have a healthy crop of potatoes, some wheat, fresh games and produce alike ( mostly meat ), mushroom, and so much fruits of berries! and though they do have a port, more than likely, many of their seafood are still imported from elsewhere. many valesmen do not actually like seafood all that much, rhea herself included.

[trashbatistrash]

,

[roosterr]

white flag ✹ ch 6

note: hoo boy, this one's a doozy. didn't mean to project so hard with this one, but fuck it we ball ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 5.3k

no use of y/n reader's callsign is 'stingray'

summary: you reach a breaking point with simon, and he finally realises what he needs to do to fix things.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, some light violence, ghost finally getting his shit together, arguing, kitchen floor romance, fluff

ao3

【prev】 || 【next】

simon didn't see you at home. in fact, he found out from soap that you went straight to the pub with him and the others. you didn't even drop your car off, which meant you weren't going to get drunk, you were going to avoid him.

it stung – a feeling he’s become quite familiar with lately. but you wanted him to leave you alone, to give you space, and seeing as he had no idea what else to do, he would oblige.

he sits at the kitchen table, across from the chair that's become yours through some unspoken agreement. a random book is in his hands – an attempt to keep himself occupied, but he's been staring at the same page for the last twenty minutes and he hasn't absorbed a single word. you are the only thing on his mind, no matter how hard he concentrates on what's in front of him.

slamming his book shut with a frustrated grunt, he gives in to the fact that he's not going to be able to do anything meaningful until you get home. perhaps trying to talk now that you'd be alone would work out better than his previous attempts.

he intends to go straight up to his room when he leaves the kitchen, but for some reason simon finds himself standing outside the door to your room, peering into the darkness through the gap where you'd left it ajar.

he shouldn't go in, he knows that. from the start he'd promised himself to give you complete privacy – he hadn't even set foot in the living room since you'd moved in, apart from the times he brought you hot chocolate and put you to bed. it was the least he could do, offer you a space to call your own, since you really didn’t have much else.

but simon missed you; he missed being near you, the scent of your shampoo and the laundry detergent you use, just basking in your presence. he wouldn't touch anything, he rationalised, he just wanted to be surrounded by something that was you.

it’s dark, but he doesn't even bother to turn the light on, the hall light through the door illuminates the room enough for him to see where he's going. the armchair on the far side of the room is unoccupied, so he collapses there with a deep exhale.

the solitude must be driving him insane, because when he closes his eyes he can almost convince himself that you’re there with him, sitting across from him with one of his books in your hands. the disappointment that washes over him when he opens his eyes to be alone again isn’t rational, but knowing that still doesn’t dull the ache.

on the mantle, he notices something definitely not left there by him; first, he spots the flowers he gave you, a little wilted and slightly squashed, sitting in a vase that was here when he moved in. he feels a fleeting sense of relief at that, he wouldn't have been surprised if you'd thrown them straight in the bin.

but more interestingly, there's a photo frame, something simon owns exactly zero of, so it must be something of yours. he stands up, his curiosity getting the better of him, and takes the frame gently in his hand. tilting it into the light so the photo is visible, he feels a faint smile tugging at his lips at the sight of a younger you surrounded by your previous team.

you’re grinning widely, making bunny ears behind one of your teammates crouched in front of you, while someone behind does the same to you. as his eyes follow their arm to their face, poking out just above your head, he feels a sharp frown pull at his brows.

it’s anderson.

simon blinks a few times, in the hopes the he was simply imagining things – that his hatred for the man and lack of a good night's sleep was causing him to see things, but no matter how many times he looked away and back again, anderson’s face refused to change.

the urge to smash the photo builds up like steadily boiling water the longer he stares at it, so he places it back on the mantle before it gets too strong. why was he just now finding out you used to work with anderson? it explained why he was so overly familiar with you. was that why you liked him more? you had to be close with him – closer than simon was with you.

were you… involved with him?

the very thought makes his heart sink like a stone. his head feels light as he stumbles back out of your room, the acidic taste of bile rising in his throat.

not a moment after the door clicks shut, simon feels his phone buzz in his pocket, pushing his spiralling train of thought to the back of his mind. he pulls it out, the screen lit up with johnny's name on the caller id, but he doesn't want to answer it.

he lets it ring until the missed call notification appears instead. expecting that to be it, simon moves to shove his phone back in his pocket, but it buzzes again before he can get there.

it's a text this time – more of them coming through before he's had time to read the first. with a tired exhale, he opens the messages from johnny.

you coming pub? 20:23 pm

you should 20:23 pm

sting is here ;) 20:24 pm

no. 20:25 pm

why notttttttt 20:25 pm

cmon just get down here 20:25 pm

seriously i think you should come we need you 20:26

fine. 20:28 pm

let's fucking go 20:28 pm

better run tho be quick 20:28 pm

simon breathes a sigh of exasperation, but grabs his jacket off the hook. he doesn't even bother to change his balaclava for a more socially acceptable mask. whatever johnny's reasoning was for getting him to come to the pub, he was secretly grateful for the excuse to go out and see you – whether he would actually get to talk to you or simply watch you from the sidelines.

✹✹✹

slipping in quietly through the side entrance, simon is relieved to find the pub not nearly as rowdy as it is normally. it seems to be only the one-four-one and their associate unit mixed in with the locals, rather than being packed with soldiers like usual.

immediately he spots price, taking up a booth in the far corner, who raises a hand in greeting to him but otherwise stays put. the gesture draws johnny and gaz's attention to him, both of whom give him enthusiastic waves of their own.

he doesn't see you with them, which prompts him to scour the rest of the pub as he trudges over to his comrades. it doesn't take him long to find you over by the bar, though when he spots anderson unnecessarily close to you, he feels like his heart might just stop.

now that he knows you and him have history, simon feels a pit of hopelessness in his chest that he knows won't ever go away as long as he has to see you be happy with someone else.

it should be me, he thinks, a bitter downturn to his lips under his mask. 

"why am i here?" he grumbles when he finally makes it to the booth, choosing to stay standing at the end of the table rather than sitting down with them.

"because you need'ta sort out this thing between you and sting." johnny replies, pushing himself up to stand next to simon and giving his shoulder a firm pat.

simon rolls his eyes to hide the way soap’s words make him flinch. "i've tried. they won't listen to me." he mumbles. he sees price shake his head in a show of disappointment, which only makes him feel even worse about the whole situation. aside from you, the captain’s been the hardest on him for the way he fucked things up, and while the sergeants clearly think he's an idiot, they've done their best to support him.

"then make them listen!" gaz exclaims, "explain yourself, tell them you'd do anything for them," he gestures one hand to where you’re standing at the bar, "tell them you love them!"

"i don't–" he begins to protest as he follows gaz’s hand, but the words die on his tongue when his eyes land on you; the dim lighting of the pub illuminates the way you smile so pleasantly, simon’s heart skips a beat. turning away from you before he becomes too entranced, he shoots gaz a light glare. "keep your voice down…"

"just tell them, l.t." gaz has an easy, knowing smile on his face when he meets simon’s eyes. looking between him and johnny, who wears a similar expression, he lets out a tired sigh.

"you’re a pain in my arse, both of you." he grumbles, massaging the creases in his forehead over the fabric of his mask.

"you're gonna do it, right?" soap grins from behind his pint, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that has simon groaning, but nodding nonetheless. "good lad, i knew you had it in ya!" soap claps him on the back once more before taking his seat again.

before any of them can bother him further, the sound of raised voices reaches their ears from the bar. not loud enough to hear what they're saying, but enough to know that there's a problem.

he's not sure what he's expecting when he turns around; but seeing you pushing a very drunk anderson’s arm off your shoulder with a scowl on your face, simon finds himself stalking over to you before he can even think about it.

"c'mon, we're good together, we have history!" anderson's words are slurred, leaving no mystery as to just how drunk he is. he leans further into your personal space, and simon watches your face scrunch up as you lean away, placing your hand on anderson’s chest to keep him at bay. "you're not seriously into that freak, are you? with that creepy fuckin' mask?"

that makes simon pause. he wanted to rip anderson away from you – of course he did – but he also wanted to hear your response, whether you would denounce him or not.

"oi!" you exclaim, an incredulous tone to your voice. "he is not a freak, don't be so rude!"

the way you defend him makes his heart swell. you also didn't deny what anderson said, and though he knows it's arrogant of him, simon still holds out hope that you don't truly hate him.

with the tiniest smirk under his mask, simon closes the distance, coming to stand at your side between you and anderson.

"sting." he addresses you, meeting your eyes and completely ignoring the annoyed mumbling from the idiot on his other side. "you alright?"

the look you give him is one of surprise and relief, but you don't get to say a single word before anderson is pushing simon's shoulder so they're facing each other.

"lieu‐lieutenant ghost, fancy seein' you here," anderson is clearly annoyed at his intrusion, poking a finger into his chest that gets slapped away just as quickly. "come to show everyone how big 'n tough you are, eh?"

"andy, stop it." you hiss, pushing him back again and stepping between him and simon.

anderson scoffs at you. "why should i? we're not at work, he can't do anything, he's just some random loser." he glares up at simon, a pitiful attempt at intimidation he knows he wouldn't dream of trying if he was sober.

"give it a rest, sergeant." simon grumbles, rolling his eyes at the way anderson puffs his chest out and stands up straighter. 

"y'know, sting was right, you're a huge fuckin' arsehole," anderson spits, ignoring the way you try to keep him away when he steps around you be face to face with simon again. "can't blame 'em for not wantin' to put up with you anymore."

simon flinches ever so slightly at that, but thankfully anderson is too drunk to notice.

"that's enough." he growls, his nails digging painfully into his palms.

"no, no! what th'fuck is your problem, man?" anderson shouts, shoving simon's chest – which doesn't move him, but pisses him off anyway. "you think you're so much better than me, but you hide your ugly mug behind that fuckin' mask like a pussy!" his raised voice draws the attention of the other patrons, and an uneasy silence falls over the room as the background chatter halts.

"just fuckin' shut up," simon rolls his eyes again, shifting his gaze over to you and jerking his head in a gesture for you to move. "c'mon."

"and don't even get me started on sting!" anderson continues, pointing a swaying finger in your face which gets slapped away the same as before. "you're so obsessed with them, it's creepy as shit, everyone knows it!"

"i'm not–"

"they must be a fuckin' freak n'all, to be into you, you're both fucked in the head–"

"watch your fuckin' mouth." simon spits, taking the front of anderson's shirt roughly in his fist. he could insult simon until his last breath, but to drag your name into this ignited the flame of real anger in his chest.

"ghost, let's just go." you grasp his wrist, the one holding anderson, and perhaps if simon could focus on anything other than the smug little bastard he's moments away from punching, he might’ve felt the warmth that your touch brought him.

"–that's why they have go to the bloody psy-psychiatrist all the time, they're fuckin' mental–" the moment the words left anderson’s mouth, simon feels every sliver of restraint he had immediately leave his body; the only sound he can hear is the rushing of blood in his ears as his face twists in rage.

"shut the fuck up." he seethes, rearing his free arm back to throw possibly the most satisfying hit of his life; but before he can land it, his arm is immobilised he’s being yanked away from the sergeant.

suddenly price is in his face with a more than disapproving frown, walking him backwards with a firm hand on his shoulder. "get a hold of yourself!" he yells, commanding and abrasive.

simon grunts and pulls price's hand off of him, leaning around the captain just in time to see you deliver a fierce slap to anderson’s face that resonates in the quiet of the room.

anderson’s head whips to the side with the blow, the shell-shocked expression displaying the clear bruise forming on his cheek and his ego. simon had to admit, the sight of that prick with a bright red handprint on his cheek was incredibly gratifying.

"don't fucking talk about me like that." you spit at him, the most intense glare he's ever seen on you creasing your features. simon notices the way it softens when your eyes meet his, as johnny pushes you away from anderson – who's still reeling from the hit, but nobody bothers to take care of him.

he can't take his eyes off of you. it's like the rest of the world has just faded away and you're the only other person left, because right now, you're the only person that matters.

its drizzling by the time you drag him out by the arm. the damp air has a somewhat sobering effect on him as he allows you to pull him along with you.

"i could’ve handled that." you mutter angrily over your shoulder. you're taking him in the direction of the car park, the orange glow of the lamp posts casting shadows on your irritated expression that he finds himself admiring like fine art.

"i'd do it again." simon replies, still having never once taken his eyes off of your form. when you let go of his arm, having arrived at your car, he immediately feels the absence of your touch. he watches you walk around to the driver's side, meeting his eyes over the car and pausing in your tracks.

you hold his gaze for a moment, before looking down and shaking your head.

"just get in the fucking car." you mutter, opening the driver’s side door and disappearing from his sight. he follows suit without question, the car shifting under his weight as he settles into the passenger seat.

you pull out of the car park without another word, your face hard as you pointedly ignore his eyes on you. the silence between is thick, without even the white noise of the radio to break it.

in some way, simon’s glad you chose him over anderson, that you're driving him home rather than taking the side of that idiot. but, then again, he remembers the history the two of you must have, and he feels mildly guilty for potentially breaking up a long-term friendship of yours. not too guilty, though; the guy was a certified dickhead.

when the tension becomes too much, he decides to ask the only question that's been circling his mind like a vulture since he laid eyes on your photo.

"you know him." simon mutters. it's more of a statement than a question, really. "i saw the picture."

he sees your eyes narrow, his own still locked on your profile as you face the road. "you went through my stuff?" you reply, a small frown pulling at your brows.

"no, i just saw the picture." for a moment, he’s afraid he’d unintentionally started another argument, but his words only evoke a deeply exhausted sigh from you.

"he's just one of my old teammates." you reply, the sadness in your voice tugging at simon’s heartstrings. "i thought he was my friend, but obviously i'm not a very good judge of character, am i?"

perhaps that was a dig aimed at simon too, but he can only really focus on how disappointed you sound.

"it’s not your fault. he’s just a twat." he attempts to reassure you, to hopefully make you feel better, but he can't tell how successful it was.

"i know that now, i just–" you huff, cutting yourself off as you pull up outside home. you shut off the engine, massaging your temples with the same frown still on your face. he's tempted to say something more, but no words come to him.

"nevermind, i don't even wanna think about it." you sigh, quickly getting out of the car and slamming the door behind you. he follows behind, the lights of your car flashing as you lock it, illuminating the way your shoulders are slumped as you disappear into the house.

simon figures you'll want time to cool off after what happened, perhaps a cold cloth for your hand that's undoubtedly stinging after such a powerful hit. the memory is enough to make him smile lightly, a feeling of pride blooming in his chest for you.

he creeps upstairs on autopilot, his gaze lingering on the closed door to your room as he passes by.

it's still quite early in the night, so he's not surprised when he hears your door open and shut again downstairs – you going to sit in the kitchen, he assumes.

he wanted to talk with you alone, without the threat of anderson interrupting him again – and now is as good a time as any.

you're sitting at the kitchen table with your laptop open on some real estate site when he shuffles into the room. he stands in the doorway, watching as you continue sifting through nearby flat listings without looking over to him.

neither of you speak. you're not willing to break the silence first, and neither is he.

for a moment, simon just stands there, staring at you. he can see you watching him from the corner of your eye from where he shifting uncomfortably by the door. he half expects you to tell him to piss off, but to his surprise, you stay quiet. taking your silence as a sign that you aren’t, in fact, revolted by his presence, he inches closer and closer to you until he's standing directly next to where you're sitting.

still, neither of you say a word.

a minute or two passes with him looming over you, watching as you scroll through page after page of available flats, a shadowy figure in your peripheral.

eventually you find a reasonably priced listing, and when you click it, only then does ghost speak up.

"you don't need to leave." he says, cringing under his mask at the sound of his voice. he hopes you don’t pick up on how pathetic he sounds. "you already have a house."

"what? what are you talking about?" your eyes remain locked on your screen as you reply, voice flat and disinterested.

simon releases a shaky sigh, his nerve quickly faltering the longer you continue to ignore him. there's a brief pause as you inspect the words on your screen, before simon brings his hand up behind your laptop and firmly closes it. with an annoyed huff you finally look at him, piercing him with a narrow glare.

"you live here." he murmurs, staring intently back at you, fighting with himself to keep his expression neutral, to stay strong.

with me. the unspoken words hang heavy in the air.

"i can't stay here, there's only one bed for christ's sake." you grumble, brow furrowed as you pinch the bridge of your nose. "my back can't handle sleeping on that sofa forever."

"then sleep in my bed." there’s no hesitation in his words; he would gladly sleep on the lumpy sofa-bed if it meant you would be more comfortable – if it meant you would stay. the sound of your chair scraping the floor echoes in the stillness of the kitchen as you stand up, to be closer to eye level with him. 

"oh what, and leave you on the sofa? in your own home?" you scoff, shaking your head as you step around him.

"well, yeah. you– i…" he reaches a hand out to touch you, stopping himself just above your elbow before he pulls back. the gesture stops you in your tracks, drawing your gaze back to his eyes. "don't leave." he murmurs, just above a whisper.

your mouth opens to respond, but his words catch you completely off guard. your eyes flit down, and he knows you can see the way his hands tremble at his side. he felt so… vulnerable, a word he never expected to apply to him, of all people, but you had that effect on him.

"just stay…" he whispers, a desperate plea as he squeezes his eyes shut to block out everything except you and him. "please…"

another tension filled silence stretches between you. he opens his eyes again, blinking as he meets your gaze. there's a profound sadness there, dragging your features downwards in a frown that sinks his stomach.

your sigh breaks the silence.

"i can't keep doing this, ghost." you mumble, dipping your head and rubbing your eyes.

"...what?"

"this! one minute you're nice to me, then you're a complete dickhead, and then you're back to being nice again." you exclaim, waving your hands around in frustration to amplify your point. "it’s exhausting."

"that's not– i'm not doing it on purpose." he frowns, the internal panic that arguing with you causes rising to the surface.

"this is what i mean! you're just making excuses!" your voice has a desperation to it that strikes him like an arrow through the heart. you turn sharply away from him, focusing your gaze somewhere on the wall.

"then just tell me what you want, for fucks sake!" he pleads, shuffling to stay in front of you and try to coax your eyes back to him. "whatever it is, i'll do it!"

"tell you what i want?" you laugh wryly, looking back to him with an expression he can only describe as offended. "i want you to apologise to me! i want you to say you're fucking sorry, and i don't want to have to wring it out of you!"

your words ring in his ears, bouncing off the walls and back at him like an echo chamber.

"you have never apologised to me! not even once! after all the shit you've put me through, i have never heard the words 'i'm sorry' out of your mouth!" you scowl at him, your eyes glossy with tears threatening to fall as your voice breaks. "thats all i've ever wanted from you!"

simon can't shake off the stunned feeling your words impart upon him; all this time, had he really never apologised? he'd just assumed that you knew he was sorry, without ever having actually said it.

the answer was practically smacking him in the face the entire time, and he still somehow managed to completely miss it. no wonder you were fed up with him – no wonder everyone kept looking at him like he was an idiot.

he's never felt more like a fucking moron than he does in this moment.

he's broken out of his haze by the movement of you sitting back down in your chair, lowering your head into your shaky hands and taking an equally unstable breath.

"you say you don't know what to do– you keep saying you regret what happened, but you never tell me why!" you briefly lift your head to cry out at him, and he just about sees the wetness on your cheeks before it's hidden behind your fingers again.

he takes one large stride to be standing in front of you again. "i was trying to help! havin' any kind of phobia will get you killed in this line of work. i was trying to help you because…" he speaks with a similarly desperate tone, his hands floating uselessly in the space between you. "be–because i care about you."

"well you could've fooled me." you sniffle, lowering your hands slightly, your gaze staying locked to the floor. "why didn't you just say that to begin with? why bother with the tough guy act?"

"it's not that simple…" he mutters, frozen in place, afraid that one wrong move would send you bolting like a cornered animal.

"why?" you cry, tilting your head up to catch his eyes with your own reddened ones, "what are you so afraid of?!"

simons heart beats out of his chest, the rhythm so aggressive he was sure he'd go into cardiac arrest.

"i'm in love with you!" he blurts, the tremor in his hands increasingly obvious as he digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. "...that's what i'm afraid of." his voice is little more than a whisper now, the silence following his declaration only serving to hurt his heart further.

when he peeks back down at you, there's a look of pure shock on your face. your mouth is agape, your eyes flickering between both of his, and simon feels as though you're staring straight into the abyss of his soul. 

"and i am sorry, i'm so fuckin' sorry, for everything– all the shit i gave you when you first started, for never givin' you a chance, for screamin’ at you," he continues, his own voice subtly cracking, "i– i'm so… in love with you, and it fucking terrifies me..."

he wanted to touch you, so badly, and with the sheer amount of raw emotion racing through his veins, he can't find it in himself to resist the urge.

simon sinks to his knees in front of you, his fingers grasping your wrists in a featherlight touch and pulling them away from your face with a gentleness he wasn't sure he possessed.

"i– i could've lost you. you could've died and then i'd have to live without you, and i can't do that…" for the first time in a long time, simon feels the sting of tears in his eyes as he caresses the pulse on your wrists with his thumbs, "i'm sorry…"

"simon…" the way you utter him name sends his heart fluttering like a caged bird in his chest. you'd never called him anything other than ghost or lieutenant before now; he never thought he could enjoy hearing simply his name this much.

"i'm so fuckin' sorry, i'll never treat you like that again, i swear." his voice is weak. he presses his forehead to your fingertips to hide the anguish in his eyes. "i'm sorry, i love you, just… just let me down easy, yeah?"

there's another pause, yours and simon's ragged breaths the only sound disturbing the silence.

"why would i let you down?” you whisper from above him. the words send a jolt of shock through him, the implication halting his breathing for a moment as he processes what you mean.

"don’t say that…" he mutters, squeezing your wrists ever so slightly tighter, not quite ready to let go of you yet.

"i'm in love with you, too."

his head snaps up to meet your eyes. "no, you– " he sputters, bringing one hand up to cover his mouth despite the mask still hiding his terrified expression "you can't… you deserve so much better…"

"i don't care what you think i deserve," you wear a tiny smile as you pull his hand away, your tender hold on his wrist mirroring his own on yours.

"i’m– i’m not good for you." he feels the tears building up again, blurring his vision.

"shouldn’t that be for me to decide?"

simon can hardly believe what's happening, when you bring your other hand up to his cheek, caressing his face through the fabric. he still doesn't let go of your wrist.

"i don't… you– i can't–" his tongue can't seem to form the words as he gazes up into your eyes, the kindness and warmth there overwhelming his senses. "i can't be what you want."

"you already are what i want." you sink to the floor as well, lifting your other hand to cup his face with a blinding smile. "i love you, simon."

for a moment, all he can do is revel in the warmth that bleeds through the fabric of his mask from your hands, pushing his face more into your touch like an affectionate cat.

a desperate noise escapes the back of his throat, his eyes fluttering shut. "...say it again?" he whispers the plea.

he feels your lips on the bridge of his nose, and his eyes snap back open at the sensation. "i love you, simon. more than anything." you murmur, shuffling closer when you kneel between his legs and pressing your forehead to his.

simon thinks he could die happy in this moment. to think, all the pain of the last couple of weeks – the last year, really – had all amounted to this, and can't help but think about what and idiot he'd been up until this point; to have waited this long to feel your touch, it was almost unthinkable.

he sighs, his breathing still evening out. "i'm so sorry…" he whispers. he goes to snake one arm around your waist, but hesitates just before touching you. as of sensing his dilemma, you give him a pleasant hum, wordlessly giving him permission to place his hand firmly on your back. he brings you that much closer with it, the feeling of holding someone a novelty to him.

"i'll forgive you, on two conditions." you reply. simon can sense the smile in your voice even with his eyes closed.

"anything."

"one, we talk to each other from now on, properly." you begin, and simon nods as adequately as he can with your forehead still against his. "second, you have to go on a date with me– to atone."

at that he opens his eyes, pulling back slightly and looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "not sure that counts as a punishment, love." 

you chuckle, meeting his sceptical gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. "it is, because you're cooking."

he chuckles, deep and rumbling in his chest, and drops his forehead gently back to yours, allowing his eyes to flutter closed again.

he'd cook for you for the rest of his life if you asked, if it meant he could stay like this, with you.

taglist p1: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @sunshiinegaz , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona ,

@alanalanalanalanalanna , @cathnoneofyourbusiness , @madsothree , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev , @clear-your-mind-and-dream , @thrivig-n-jiving , @lesterous , @glitterypirateduck , @slu77ym4nw415ts , @livelaugh-light , @trulylavendedarling , @stateofcatatonia , @rivalriotrenegade , @yoichiislovie , @nirvanaaaonly , @ameliaamareeee , @sapientiia , @thesecretwriter , @susanmukami , @ryze1113 , @stars-andfreckles , @spya1 , @tunaa-luvchrm , @tzutology (p2 in separated reblog)

[milkbobatyun]

loving taehyun is like doing tiktok dances together

pairing: idol!kang taehyun x idol!reader

genre: fluff, slight headcanon, drabble (-ish)

summary: what it’s like loving taehyun, but this time you're both idols (hinted) and you're doing tiktok dances together

word count: 398

a/n: thought i'd change it up this time, to make the both of them idols just cus why not >:) top 10 funniest things was when @yeonjunsfox and i literally brainwaved the idea to each other ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗᕕ( ᐕ )ᕗ pls suggest some ideas if you want cus the creative juices are dwindling ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

loving taehyun is like doing tiktok dances and trends together, with fans swooning at the loving glances taehyun gives you.

when you first suggested the idea to taehyun, he was over the moon. doing tiktok trends with his s/o and getting the chance to post them? he was pumped!

so that’s how the two of you ended up on the infamous musicbank stairs, filming a new, random tiktok that, when taehyun posted, he captioned “dancing with my star 💖”. the moas who saw that lost their minds. was this a new celebrity crush or was it something more?

fans were delighted to see their idol doing promotional dance collabs with taehyun. what made it even better was seeing taehyun’s wide grin while he was dancing. 

theory makers were churning out videos and analysing the interactions where you and taehyun would interact, whether it be said tiktok videos or at music awards or in variety shows. 

what made taehyun’s whole year was when you suggested doing his favourite girl group’s newest dance. despite having to try multiple times and staying behind to learn the dance, you put in the effort to make sure you had it down pat, just to accompany taehyun with the dance.

when taehyun posted the video, eagle-eyed fans noticed how he looked at you was different from how he looked at other idols he collaborated with. sure, he looked at jungwon with so much love and pride, but the look he reserved for you was different.

he looked at you like you were his whole universe, like every movement you made would always be perfect. his gazes on you lingered like you were an art piece he wanted to remember forever.

with the number of videos flooding txt’s tiktok page, fans had begun to speculate and accept that maybe the two of you were dating, with moa more than happy to accept that you had stolen the heart of mr “cold as antarctica”.

overall, loving taehyun is 304 tiktoks out of 19.

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024

/ づ ♡

[rainba]

how would the boys feel about a darling who just rants about anything at anytime? like,, theyre literally having a picnic at night—silent hill esc

and then darling just suddenly asks

“you know yogurt is kind of a weird thing to say, not that yogurt is weird but lik—“

and then rambles about the word yogurt for an hour straight X)

👾 anon 🤑🤑‼️‼️

Kairos would be the type to (try and) attentively listen, smiling and nodding while clinging on to you.

"Y-yeah, yogurt...! Weird thing to, um, say...."

He's got hearts in his eyes and a blush on his cheeks, simply because he likes listening to you talk about anything at all. Is Kairos fully paying attention? Not really...

He's just so entranced by you that he can't really focus on anything. ^^;;;;;

Luka would calmly listen and nod, not saying much of anything, but still paying close attention.

Every time you ask him, "hey? Are you even listening to me...?" He'd be able to perfectly repeat the last few sentences you just spoke. (*¯︶¯*)

However, if you ramble for far too long, Luka might just lean in and kiss you while teasingly mumbling something along the lines of, "you can stop talking now." ღ

But... If you insist on still ranting to him, he'll happily keep listening. (=`ω´=)

Meanwhile, with Ace- he won't hesitate to excitedly engage in random conversations and rants with you-! It doesn't matter what the topic is.

If you're passionate about something, he'll share the energy! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

If you say, "you know yogurt is kind of a weird thing to say, not that yogurt is weird, but like..."

Ace will reply with, "Wait, wait... Actually? You're so right!"

...Then he'll go back and forth with you for hours on end. ^^;;;;;;;

[jgrills]

!?(･_･,? ♡

tw: fluff, rooftop date ^^, and exhausted reader.

the reader can also see his border!

but otherwise, no warnings really.

sorry for not writing lately!! I haven't had a bunch of motivation.

make sure to take a break, eat some food, plenty of rest, don't forget to drink water!!

Take care of yourself!!

It had been a long week for you, your professors seemed to want to drown you in assignments and homework. You haven't had a blink of sleep since.. Monday.

You were at your desk, the sight of ruined markers, cluttered papers, and sticky notes ruining your mood even more, full of all sorts of marked papers, good, bad, and neutral. The calming music your friends recommend only aggravates you more, your computer screen illuminating your figure. You groan, rubbing your eyes, refusing to acknowledge the 16 pages left of the assignment.

You don't even remember the last time you saw Hobie, you've been so busy drowning in assignments, that you miss several calls from Hobie, or your friends.

You close your computer, put the papers in a messy stack, put the markers somewhere random, and flop on the bed, you can't even sleep.

You start to drift off, getting under the covers and putting your head on the pillow, closing your eyes.

knock knock

"Are you serious.." You groan, slinging the covers off of you, and walking to the door. You open the door, looking around.

You don't see anybody.

"Hello?" You rub your eyes, then look down, you see a cd with a note on it.

"Hi! I know you've been stressed with exam prep, but please go to the roof!!" -Miles Morales

"P.S: It's worth it!"

You go back in your room, getting a comfortable outfit on, lacing up your shoes, and putting your room key in your pant pocket.

"Okay, let's go" You close the door, not forgetting to grab your bag, setting an OUT note by your door, locking it, and walking to the elevator.

The emptiness of the hallway eaves you with a sort of calming sensation, the closed doors, the many numbers, and the floor seems paranormal. You thought the elevator was more closer to your room, you look down at your phone.

1 message from 🌻

🌻: Did you get the note? (˘ŏ_ŏ)

[ ]: Yeah, I'm coming.

🌻: Okay, enjoy! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

You close the message, and put on some music, pressing the RF button, and watching as the doors closed. You feel the elevator rise, looking out of the windows and seeing all the bright lights, the moving cars, and the traffic lights turning different colors.

This was way more interesting than your apartment room view.

The elevator dings, the doors opening, you check your phone again.

[ ]: Miles are you sure? There's no one up here"

🌻: Look to your left.

You look towards your left, seeing Hobie taking off his mask, holding two lunchboxes, sitting by the edge of the roof, his border full of !?'s and a light pink color.

[ ] Thank you!

🌻: Your welcome! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

You put your phone away, walking towards him "Hey Hobie" you say, going over and sitting down beside him. "What's up? I got Miles' note to come up here."

Hobie waves you off playfully, "Hey, I wanted you to come up because I knew you needed a load off your shoulders" He hands you a lunchbox, with a fork on top.

"Thank you" You cheered, opening the latch of the light brown box, unrevealing the small white bow, revealing a small cake with your favorite fruits, colors, and designs on it, the small confetti wrap cradling the cake is adorned with several designs of hand-drawn hearts on it, the cake fits perfectly on the confection, and the size of the box, showing how much thought was put into this gift.

You look to the top of the inside of the box, the top reveals a red heart-folded piece of paper with tape on it, you take the clear tape off slowly, not wanting to mess up anything. Unfolding it, it reveals a note from Hobie:

"Love you" it's written in many different writing materials, mixed with Hobie's messy yet perfect writing.

"You're so sweet, did you get one for yourself?" You tease, putting the lunchbox in your lap.

"Of course, I can't have you eating mine" He teases back, nudging you while picking up his fork, taking a bite of his cake, some icing smearing by his mouth.

"Whatever" You roll your eyes, eating some of yours, the sweetness of the pastry hitting your taste buds, and you hum in satisfaction, chewing the treat and looking down at the city.

You see Hobie's fork approaching your cake, you try to swat his hand away, but it's too late, he's already eating your pastry.

"Hobie!" You exclaim, reaching your fork to his pastry, but you're interrupted when he shoves a fork full of his pastry in your mouth, then tak it back out after you eat it.

You cover your mouth, not knowing how to react after tasting his pastries' flavor, it was a mix of his and your favorite flavors.

"Wow, that's good" you mutter, still embracing the flavors of the pastry.

"I know right? Yours is good also" He says, taking a few more bites from your cake.

After this moment, the brown lunchboxes sit nearby, the confetti wrapping swaying softly in the breeze. You and Hobie both relax, stealing kisses, hugging, making jokes, and just taking comfort in each other's presence.

"I know I don't say it enough, but I'm proud of you, even with all this exam prep you're doing, you never gave up, and I love you," He says, his head in your lap as you run your hands on his wicks.

"Fuck" You check your phone, going to the assignment page, a late notice greeting you as soon as you open the app.

"What happened?"

"My work was due at 11:59..." You groan, tilting your head back, closing your eyes.

"Still love you"

"You're not making this any better."

@chessbox

and many thanks to @adorefavv for the lunchbox cake idea + more details !!

-have a fluffy blanket and a warm drink.

[randomyuu]

A JJK GoYuu fancomic... of a fanfic (read right to left)

You know… despite me getting into JJK fandom this year, I’ve never drawn any JJK characters. (cue me drawing 9 whole-ass comic pages-)

This wonderful fic is titled (you'll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become by @voxofthevoid​. This comic covers chapter 1 scenes.

Beware of the tags, as the fanfic is NSFW. Oh, and also, manga spoilers! Major character and arc spoilers! I’ve read until chapter 4 and no NSFW so far, but still, beware!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43446157/chapters/109219954

I hope you enjoy reading this comic and the fanfic if you decide to!

Update: Chapter 6 scene fanart

More of my random thoughts and an early drawing of GoYuu below:

Have I told you I’m not used to drawing manga as well? Manga panels are pain. PAIN, I tell you. I shouldn’t have done this, but I did. I did, because every time I read the synopsis of this fic I keep picturing manga-like scenes. You should blame me for reading those AllYuu doujinshis.

It was… interesting experience. I was struggling a bit with the balloon consistency, like, do I use white boxes or just italic words for thoughts? Or maybe a balloon with a cloud-like border?

And there’s GoYuu (YuuGo? Idk honestly, don’t care lol) themselves. As I said, I literally have never drawn JJK-related content before. So when I started thinking about the panelling, I realised that I don’t really know how to draw Gojo, even more a thousand-year-old Yuuji. A whole day is spent researching Gojo, Yuuji and Sukuna’s appearances lol. Sukuna’s markings are a problem since I can’t find a full view of his markings. I know I can just finally watch the anime (yes I haven’t watched the anime, only some short clips; yes I know the animation is good, and I really want to watch it but my brain doesn’t want to) or re-read the manga, but I don’t want to ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

After going through Google images, Twitter and Reddit, I whipped up a front drawing of GoYuu as my reference:

Gojo’s is easier because he hasn’t changed from the official (I blatantly eyeballing the character sheet I found haha), but Yuuji is different. Yuuji’s hair is longer; if I recall, there’s no exact description of his clothes. I assume he’s topless due to this description: Messy pink hair, long enough to cover the creature’s nape but not to hide the segmented dark markings running down his back, shifts in the wind.

And halfway through storyboarding, I realised that I have no experience using screen tones. Whatsoever. So off I go searching for a screentone bundle I can freely download and slowly figure my way out after fully lining the page.

And we haven’t even touched perspective, background, achromatic colouring, non-human characters—man, I really bite more than I can chew lmaooo

Ah, the things you would do to satiate that drawing mood ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Also, I hope I’ll have time to draw more fanarts of JJK GoYuu fanfics because they live rent-free in my brain and I need them to get out. Maybe other pairings as well? I like quite a lot of pairings that involve Yuuji. He’s precious, and I love having it shown to me over and over through fanfics.

[mokneydloaf]

[oneknightstand-if]

How would the Ros react if the MC is the type to accidentally got them into trouble?

MC: "Oh! What's this for?" *Press a random button they found*

Ros: "Wait, don't!!!" *Got stuck in a trap that triggered by the button*

MC: "Oh..."

Merlin: (✿ʘ‿ʘ) (Someone needs to be turned into a duck again)

Adrian: (눈_ლ) (He will never get used to it)

Arthur: ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ (He's used to it)

Percy: ᕕ(✿ ᐛ )ᕗ (Has already randomly pressed the 'Escape' button)

4̷0̸4̴ ̴E̸r̸r̵o̴r̸ ̸N̵o̴t̸ ̵F̴o̶u̶n̷d̴: ψ(｀∇´)ψʱªʱªʱª (Was probably the one who stuck the button there in the first place)

Cassandra: |ʘ‿ʘ)╯🔪(She will turn you into a newt if you don't stop that. Yes she's the one threatening that not Merlin)

Gwen: ヽ(✿°ヮ°)ノ (She might've wanted to press that button too)

Vivian: ｢(ﾟﾍﾟ)?(Everyone is doing who in the what now? Oh well...*floods the city*)

Lorelei: ( ಠ _ ಠ )🏹 (She's coming for you, better run)

Broderick: ლ(ಠ益ಠლ) (This is his normal face)

[moonwonuu]

‘til there was you 💌

pov: meet the farmville family & their little princess ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

tw: mention of food

a/n: hindi ko pa sure if gagawin ko to proper series or random posts lang like bodyguard!kim kasi medyo bz talaga ako 😅 anywho, happy friday! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

taglist: @raely-study

[cartoonartistpng]

Random idea of “hey, what if movie mobians actually grew to be giants?”

Ultimate cuddle piles

Transformers-sized fights

Maddie and Tom call them their “little Kaiju’s” (Sonic called dibs on ‘Godzilla’)

“Look at my little boys, aren’t they so cute?” Maddie says affectionately in reference to the behemoths whose eyes are the size of her head

At this point, their existence is public knowledge, so they don’t have to worry about hiding

Bonus: Sonic, as the shortest, is sometimes mistaken for a high-quality fur suit ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

[piliiiiiconfusionf]

Have a random Patton dood ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

[puppetfives]

Dudes I have the sudden craving to make headcanons about Ford because I imagine that he would just fuckin love it in the Backrooms.

Like, imagine he just finds out about it and then tries to no-clip into it by running into random walls and shit and then Stan makes fun of him for trying to no-clip so hard that he's got bruises.

Thanks for wasting five minutes of your life on this post I'll see myself out. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ🗑️