Ghost Reversing A Car.

Ghost reversing a car.

That’s it. That’s the post.

in my 9 years of having glasses, i still cannot for the fucking life of me clean them properly on the first attempt. IT DRIVES ME MAD

Quite frankly I get tired of queer people getting into "the grass is greener on your side!" arguments with other queer people.

None of us are acceptable to the society we live in, so how about we stop pissing on each other's grass and take it to the actual oppressors?

tattoos

simon riley x reader

summary: you colour simon’s tattoos during a briefing.

tags: secret relationship, soap being soap, ghost and soap’s bromance bc they need more content together, tattoos, me going feral over simon’s tattoo bc slfnndkdhsbrkci, rudy is reader’s bestie, alejandro is grumpy, he’s just not a morning person, gaz is just there

wow 2 posts in one day 😍

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simon’s sat down, eyes scanning over the room. price was waiting for everyone to get in the briefing room and settle, reading over his notes which gave simon a brief time to settle in. sitting in crowded rooms always made him anxious, even though he knew everyone in the room, it was still nerve-racking. you take a seat next to him, giving him a wide and friendly smile as soap takes the seat on his left. rudy, being close to you, sits on your other side and simon gives him a short nod. the two weren’t close, rudy always got uncomfortable around simon, but you two were best friends so simon tried coming off more friendly. the spanish man smiles awkwardly, looking at his lap as he fiddles with his pen. you snatch up the highlighters in the middle of the table, as per usual, and start doodling slightly on your notes.

soon enough, price starts the briefing, yet simon’s watching you. you’re drawing a little frog, colouring it in with the highlighter, then you glance up at johnny and add on a little mohawk. simon smiles at the sight of the soapfrog drawing. you carefully peel the sticky note from the pad, pushing it over to soap who accepts it and smiles a little, trying not to laugh. on the note below it, you start doodling a little stereotypical sheet covered ghost. simon rolls his eyes, looking back up at price, who sounds tired considering it’s 6 am. the feeling of a pen on his forearm makes simon jump a little, and he looks down. you’re colouring his tattoo with expert precision. the flames decorating his tanned skin are now highlighted orange, and simon moves his arm a little over to allow you more room. you smile at him, and his heart skips a beat. he sits completely still, as if he moved anymore than breathing would disrupt your work. you shuffle a little next to him, nudging your chair closer so you had more room to colour him in. eventually, you tap his wrist and he flips his hand over, pretending to roll his eyes as you start on the other side of his hand. the feeling of the cool tip of the highlighters was rather calming to him, albeit the smell was making him a little dizzy.

the briefing is taking forever due to some technical difficulties and everyone’s getting restless. price had stepped out to get someone more suited with tech, and you had moved on from highlighting simon’s tattoos to doodling upon the back of his hand. johnny notices, smiling a little. “can i have a go, l.t?” he asks teasingly, making alejandro and rudy glance up from their phones, gaz had his head down on the table and you all assumed he was asleep. “no.” simon deadpans, and you snort a little. “aw, but l.t-“ johnny is cut off by a glare, and he raises his hands in fake surrender. “draw on these, johnny.” you say, pushing your sticky notes over. johnny nods, drawing a poor image of you, rudy, simon and alejandro as stick figures. simon glances down at his hand, you’d drawn a tiny version of him, it was cutesy and he adored it. (he silently makes a note to take a picture of it later in private so it wasn’t lost forever). you had also drawn a cat wearing his mask as well as a little bar of soap next to the cat. “you have a notepad, y/n.” alejandro tells you, and you nod. “i know.” you reply, voice rather innocent considering alejandro was speaking to you as if you were a child drawing on the walls.

“ghost isn’t a notepad.” alejandro scolds, and you shrug. “he doesn’t mind, do you simon?” you smile at him, and he shakes his head. “look at his forearm.” you grin, holding his hand up so everyone in the room could see. “jesus christ…” rudy mutters, hiding a laugh behind his hand as he looks at alejandro’s unimpressed expression. the older man sighs, running a hand over his face. “look.” soap says, showing his tiny drawing of the crew. “aw that’s so cute.” you laugh, and johnny grins. “is that meant to be me?” alejandro asks, accepting the drawing from the sergeant. he shows rudy who laughs fully. “you’re built like a square, coronel.” rudy teases, pointing to the little angry face on the drawing. “i can see that, pendejo.” alejandro gently whacks rudy with the notepad, and he laughs more. you’re laughing as well, and simon presses his knee into your leg. you look at him and smile, hand slipping under the desk to rest upon his thigh. your fingers run soft circles over his pant leg, massaging the muscle. simon practically relaxes right there, leaning into you a little more. it wasn’t that obvious, so you nudge him back playfully. “how do you have so much energy in the morning.”

“me and rudy have been up all night, we’re both piped up on 12 energy drinks- each.” you reply, smiling brightly. “jesus christ… get some sleep tonight, yeah?” simon tells you, his hand squeezing yours. “i can’t when you’re not there.” you respond, frowning. simon feels his heart squeeze. “i’ll see what i can do.” he mutters, the room falling silent as price steps back in. “right, shall we carry on?” the captain asks, and everyone mutters in agreement. gaz raises his head groggily, letting out a soft “wha’..?” price rolls his eyes, continuing with the briefing. simon sits silently, hand encasing yours. occasionally, he glances down at the doodles on his skin. he was truly in love with you and all the weird little antics you had harboured over the years. no matter what, the two of you would always belong to each other, and you could always draw upon his arms.

johnny “soap” mactavish & simon “ghost” riley

modern warfare 2 (2022)

HQ BOYS MEETING A BEAUTIFUL FAN

⟶ ft. kuroo, suna, ushijima

♡ kuroo

"kuroo? kuroo testurou?"

kuroo whips around, ready to apologise to whoever that the nekoma volleyball team is currently rushing to catch their bus back to school, when he's suddenly hit with...

kuroo's jaw drops.

he doesn't even know how to describe what he's seeing. all he knows is that he's currently staring at the girl of his dreams.

"um, could i take a video with you?" you give him a tentative grin, before rocking back on your heels, adding, "and if it's okay, could you wish my friend to get well soon?"

kuroo immediately closes his mouth, aware that he looks completely stupid in front of the cutest girl he's ever laid eyes on. he gazes at you with his iconic half-lidded eyes, hoping he sounds more confident than the way his heart is clenching in his chest, "oh? a video? and what's your friend's name?"

"misaki! she's your biggest fan but she couldn't be here because she's sick today." kuroo nods empathetically at your explanation, internally swooning because you're going to such lengths for your sick friend? that is so cute.

"sure! a video's nothing! hang on - kenma, help us take a video!"

kenma turns around, about to protest how they have no more time to entertain fangirls when he sees kuroo slinging an arm around you. kuroo shoots kenma a pleading look and kenma finds himself sighing because, of course, kuroo is absolute putty for pretty girls.

when coach nekomata calls for kuroo and kenma, kuroo frowns as he removes his arm around your waist, before he gets an idea.

he leans in closer to you, pressing something into your hands, smirking, "return this to me in school."

before you can even open your mouth and protest, kuroo's gone.

you look down in your hands and see his nekoma jacket crumpling between your fingers as you giggle to yourself.

♡ suna

suna is normally cool as a cucumber, eyes glued to his phone nonchalantly whenever a group of fangirls approach his teammates and gush animatedly.

normally.

he thinks he's being slick when he sneaks a few glances your way, heart clenching in his chest as he sees you move closer - or rather sees your friends drag you towards...him?

suna quickly assesses his situation and scans the area around him - no, the miya twins were not around him. this could only mean one thing - you're headed straight in his direction.

before he has the time to really freak out about an angel of a girl approaching him, you're already getting pushed towards him, with your friends' soft snickers in the background. and you're beaming up at him softly.

he feels his heart in his throat when he hears you repeat, gesturing to your friend who's holding up a polaroid camera, "are you okay to take a photo with me?"

okay? fuck. he is more than okay.

suna blinks, regaining a little composure. straightening his jersey, suna nods at you silently and wraps an arm around your shoulder, hoping you don't hear the way his heart is hammering thunderously against his chest.

holy shit. how do you smell amazing too? what was that - vanilla or something floral?

as suna tries to figure out what exactly is the intoxicating scent wafting around him, the photo is over, a little too fast might he add. he feels you pulling away from him and his arm drops back to his sides.

he knows he sounds uncharacteristically simp-y and even cringes a little at himself, but he knows he will forever regret it if he didn't ask you.

"do you wanna have another photo? with the polaroid camera, i mean."

suna may or may not have left his number behind the second polaroid.

♡ ushijima

"hi!"

ushijima feels a gentle tap on his shoulder right after he hears you. he turns around slowly and -

there is no way you are real.

"hello." he greets, looking stoic in contrast to the way he's internally panicking.

ushijima feels his grip tighten on the volleyball he's holding, taking in the way your eyes shine under the harsh gym lights. he listens to you ramble something about being a fan of his and a reporter as his eyes continue to glaze over your angelic figure, only snapping out of it when he feels kageyama nudging his side.

"so ermmm, what do you do in your free time?" you repeat helpfully, prodding a pen against your notepad.

"uhm." ushijima feels his face heating up. "i take care of my plants."

you're immediately gasping, "no way! i'm a plant mom too!"

"oh, uhhh," ushijima swallows, growing impossibly redder at the revelation of your shared hobby, "what do you grow?"

"roses!"

of course. that suits you, he thinks, pretty flowers for a pretty girl.

before ushijima knows it, he's spluttering nervously, "there's...actually a nursery around here..."

you look up from your notepad, eyes crinkling excitedly as you listen to ushijima explain how to get there. but after a couple of failed descriptions, ushijima scratches his head, "i-if you're not too busy afterwards, i could take you there?"

your eyes widen at the insinuation, before you nod shyly and give ushijima a small smile, which he finds himself melting at.

did ushijima just score himself a date? maybe.

is he complaining? oh hell no.

🤍 reblogs are very appreciated!