KIROKAZE
Jules of Nature
Keni

PR's Tumblrdome
Stranger Things
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

★

Love Begins
cherry valley forever
Game of Thrones Daily
AnasAbdin
trying on a metaphor
d e v o n
i don't do bad sauce passes

pixel skylines
🪼

shark vs the universe
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
ojovivo

izzy's playlists!

seen from Germany

seen from United States

seen from Argentina
seen from Germany

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Japan
seen from United States

seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United States
seen from Singapore

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from Canada
@sundaescreamcheese
The Vikings of the Archipelago have completed their collaborative work on the Book of Dragons! 📜✨ Pre-orders are officially OPEN! Rumors are flying among our dragon hunters that our Terror-Mail will soon be taking flights across borders! But to get the most accurate information, it is best to discuss shipping details with the community admins on our VK platform: КНИГА ДРАКОНОВ ARTBOOK | HTTYD ZINE
I tortured @nightunite so you guys should suffer too a bit. On the same avian!141 theme, let’s talk more about mourning dove!Simon.
Imagine mourning dove Simon who was so distressed after surviving that torture that he started plucking his feathers out and they didn’t grow back so now he is stuck with the shame + self-loathing + ‘I did this to myself’ mentality that eats at him.
Because he is a bird and he really wanted to be enough to attract a mate once, but he doesn’t have what it takes anymore and he cannot compete with anyone from the TaskForce because they are all these majestic birds and he is losing more feathers the older he gets.
That’s lot of shame to unpack there.
And imagine younger post-torture Simon cooing to himself as a self-soothing thing because that’s what he used to do to calm down Tommy when they were kids.
Only Tommy is no longer there and Simon’s back really really hurts and he can’t feel his wings at all (he doesn’t know yet he no longer has them).
Simon who still hates when someone pats his back because the phantom urge to flap his wings is always there.
Gets only stronger when Reader comes around because he can never admit how envious he is of Kyle’s wingspan or Soap’s feathers.
He can’t admit even to himself that he is even more jealous of Price who have been to hell and back, and yet he still has that bloody tail, still has his pretty feathers, still has the wings.
And Simon has nothing.
Thinking about Simon who gets attached to Reader the first out of the entire TaskForce and spends a lot of time beating around the bush because he doesn’t know how to go about it.
Does he have the right to court them like a dove when he isn’t even a real dove anymore?
Would they even pay any attention to him?
Simon who is painfully jealous when Reader starts collecting all the feathers they get after preening Johnny because the lad shines like a new coin and you are so excited to have new shiny feathers.
And it is so fucking childish, but Simon wants so badly to have his plumage back so you can inspect his feathers with the same kind of awe.
TWO OF CUPS | Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x Reader
MOODBOARD · AO3
You can’t remember wanting anything with ease. Certainly not the man of your dreams.
or: the anxious avoidant au
tags: Size Difference, Size Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, AFAB Reader, Mildly Dubious Consent, Anxious Avoidant Character, Coffee Shop AU, Strangers to Lovers
You can’t remember wanting anything with ease.
It always hurts in that big, bright way, like a thousand sticks of dynamite blowing a tunnel open through a mountain, giving you a way to pass to the other side. Like whispering the same wish over and over again until your lips go numb and your voice goes hoarse, your plea still unheard after all these years.
Mean furbies
Hmm I think because their lives are so inundated with safewords already (sitreps, callouts) it'd feel redundant to have a specific one between them (also I think they are DEEPLY freaks who WOULD go without)
I do think they would check in on each other in their own ways, doting and concerned...🥺
+
I can't imagine Soap ever ANNOYS Ghost, but I bet he can get under Ghost's skin a bit as they get more comfortable - a feat achievable by a scant few in his life, surely...
Hmm I think because their lives are so inundated with safewords already (sitreps, callouts) it'd feel redundant to have a specific one between them (also I think they are DEEPLY freaks who WOULD go without)
I do think they would check in on each other in their own ways, doting and concerned...🥺
+
I can't imagine Soap ever ANNOYS Ghost, but I bet he can get under Ghost's skin a bit as they get more comfortable - a feat achievable by a scant few in his life, surely...
new MW4A trailer. No Gaz. First soap now him. What else can infinityward take from me.
Once again thinking about ghost and his [zero concept of aftercare] and all his methods for helping you out afterwards...
Ghost has spent multiple instances fucking you dumb, using all your energy and then some because he's simply that obsessed with you. Yet, you still haven't seen any traditional aftercare from ghost.
His favorite method seems to be food, helping you recover physically from the exertion.
Of course there's the granola bars and electrolyte drinks, but you'll never forget the day he he dissappeared for a bit and came back with a perfectly cooked steak, still butt-naked when he handed you the plate. It even had an adorable little garnish.
Though the time he pulled you into a closet because he had to have you in his mouth, only to pop off and hand you a little fish Keychain he found at the gas station, will always be a fond memory.
Or the time where, after a shower and cuddles, you still seemed down and ghost just wouldn't let it stand. So he decided to build a blanket fort around you in bed as if it were the logical next step.
Does he still need to be reminded to help you wash up or to come for cuddles? Yes, but honestly you love whatever his mind comes up with more. You like how personalized it feels.
....you'll never stop teasing him for the time he prepped sourdough in the oven and timed it specifically for when you'd want a break and when you'd be done.
God you love the guy.
pt. 2 of the well-loved gaz x insecure!reader post!! (This is kind of a bridge to pt. 3, so bear with me PLEASE! I have more ideas for the next part, but I needed to get there first lol...hopefully this is good idk im nervous abt my newfound audience)
[part 1, part 2, part 3]
The rest of his night passed in a daze. He couldn’t stop stealing glances at the tiny little picture on your license while Johnny and Simon argued with each other about what he should do to try to win you back - but he could barely hear a word they were saying as he wiped away the sticky-sweet drink that was still dripping down his face.
“Ah’d give her a second ta calm down, ya ken? Go in the mornin’ and give her a chance to find her head.”
“Showin' up at her place unannounced after hanging onto her shit all nigh'? Yeah, that’d leave a good impression, wouldn’ it? No wonder you can’t get a bird, Johnny. Scarin’ ‘em all off.”
“Ach, ye’d know what tha’s like, wouldn’ ye? Spooky fuckin’ bastard. Ah bet women run the second they see tha' stupid fuckin' mask-”
"Whatever. Gaz, just give it to the bartender, yeah? Clearly she doesn't like ya'. She'll come back for it."
In the end, he ends up taking Johnny’s advice and decides to return your wallet in the morning – which maybe wasn't his smartest move. Especially since now he doesn’t have a lick of alcohol flowing through his system to calm him down as he walks along the sidewalk towards your place. He’s sure he looks crazy to everyone he passes – muttering to himself to try to coach himself through what he’ll say to you.
“Hey! Nah, uh…hello, how are you? No, I- fuck…” He shakes his head as he looks down at your wallet, twiddling the zipper between his fingers as he mumbles under his breath. “Hi, I’m Kyle…I’m the one who, um…who made you...cry last night. Ah, shit.”
He's never felt this way about a girl before - like a nervous, stuttering schoolboy. His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest, and he can feel the sweat beading on the back of his neck when he suddenly finds himself standing in front of your door.
You've got a sweet little welcome mat - covered in sunflowers and loopy letters - and he notices all the pots filled with plants and flowers that scatter around near your door. God, he's already thinking that you're the most precious thing in the world.
He doesn't know what it is about you that's affecting him so much. Is it because you rejected him? Is it a challenge to him? Does he just feel guilty? Or maybe it's because, for the first time ever, he's gone after a girl that he actually has to figure out. Women have always thrown themselves at him the moment he flashed a smile their way. But you...all you did was throw a drink in his face.
It takes him nearly a full minute before he finally knocks on your door, and he can't seem to figure out what to do with his hands as he waits for the sound of your soft, thudding footsteps to reach the door.
You're still puffy from crying yourself to sleep last night, but you open the door with a polite smile anyway - donned in your oversized cat pajamas without an ounce of makeup on - but your smile quickly falls when you recognize the man standing on your doorstep.
The unfortunately beautiful man who had woken up every insecurity you had in less than a minute of talking to you.
Your expression seems to cycle through a million emotions as you try to comprehend how he could possibly be here, but once you notice the teal wallet clutched in his hand, realization settles on your features as the embarrassment hits you.
He stands silent for a moment as he takes in how gorgeous you are despite your slightly disheveled appearance, and he can barely form a sentence as he lifts up your wallet with a sheepish smile. "You, uh…you left this at the bar, um…last night. Got your address from your, uh...your I.D.” Christ, he's lost all sense of charisma hasn't he? He holds onto the wallet for a horrifyingly awkward amount of time as he stares blankly at you, but he finally comes to his senses when you mumble out a quiet 'oh, thanks' and reach out to take it.
“I’m Kyle, by the way.”
He's never seen a girl look at him with such guardedness before - with your arms crossed protectively over your chest as you give him a tense smile. He can't tell if it's because of the whole incident from the night before, or if you're just freaked out that a total stranger went through all the effort to bring your wallet directly to where you live.
Probably both.
You clearly return his greeting just to be polite, murmuring your name quietly as you place your wallet off to the side.
“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He lets out an awkward laugh, but quickly backtracks when you shoot him a funny look. “I mean, from your license! I-It’s got your name on it. I only know it because it's...it's on the license.” He stutters out quickly as he shoves his hands into his pockets. God, he's losing it. His heart feels like it's going to explode. “I, um…it’s a gorgeous name, by the way. Suits you, you know?”
The compliment slips out naturally, but it only makes you tense up even more, and you suck in a tight breath as you begin to shift on your feet. Your fingers are itching to reach for the door to slam it in his face - arrogant prick thinking he can keep up his act from last night even though he practically sent you into a fit - but he interrupts your spiraling thoughts with a heavy sigh as he drops his charming smile.
“Hey, I...I just really wanted to say that I'm sorry, love. I didn’t mean to upset you like that last night.” His demeanor changes so drastically that you can't help but soften a bit, melting underneath his warm, pleading eyes enough to listen to him. "I think we had a bit of a misunderstanding...I wasn't making fun of you, love. Honest."
He seems so genuine about it that you can't help but feel a bit guilty. You had tossed and turned all night thinking about how shocked he had looked after your little outburst. You tried to stave of your regret by telling yourself that he had come over to you only to make fun of you like everyone else does, so technically he deserved it - but now you weren't so sure.
“Oh, well…I’m sorry for, you know…throwing my drink in your face.” You murmur sheepishly as you look down at your welcome mat - tracing one of the flowers with your fuzzy slipper before tilting your head back up to look at him with burning cheeks. “Wasn’t very mature of me."
“No, no, no...it's fine, really! If anything, I'm sorry you had to waste your drink on me. I mean, I know how pricey that place can get.” He lets out another laugh, but it's a bit less tense this time, especially when he sees the way your lips almost quirk up into a smile. It makes him feel bold enough to try to bring back the charm, and he can't stop himself from asking you, “You know…maybe I could, um…make it up to you sometime? Could buy you another drink?”
But once again, you pause. His persistence only makes you more suspicious of his motives, and it shows in how you tighten your arms across your chest. He can see your eyes flash with a pang of hurt, and he feels his heart clench as he fumbles over himself, growing less sure by the second. “O-Or just a coffee, maybe?”
“...Look, Kyle…” His heart leaps in his chest at the sound of his name on your lips, but your guarded tone is enough to smother the warm, fluttery feeling that had been building in his stomach. “Thanks for bringing me my wallet, but you’re wasting your time. I don’t know what kind of bet you have going with your friends, but I’m not going to fall for it, okay? I'm not...I'm not stupid.”
Stupid? His expression falls once more, and he gives you the most genuine look he can muster as he speaks up quietly. “I...I don't think you're stupid. There’s no bet, love. Honest.”
“A dare, then.”
“No dare, either.”
You let out a frustrated sigh and roll your eyes a bit before resting your hand on your hip, but your irritated demeanor doesn't hide the way your eyes are beginning to grow a bit watery and bloodshot as you murmur quietly. “Well, why are you doing this, then?”
His eyebrows furrow as he looks down on you, and he can't help but shake his head in disbelief as he takes a small step towards you. God, you were absolutely breaking his heart. Did you really think it was that unbelievable that he could like you? “I already told you, love. I think you’re absolutely gorgeous…and I know you don’t seem to like hearing that, but it’s true. And I know you're not just a pretty face, I just...I don't know anything else about you. But I'd like to...I'd like to get to know you.”
You don't seem moved by his words, but he can't see how your heart begins to pound wildly in your chest, grasping onto the small bit of hope that you had desperately tried to push down. You'd spent so long trying to protect yourself from feeling this way about someone, and he's already managing to sneak past those walls you had built up.
But your mind keeps replaying every moment of disappointment you felt when it came to men 'asking you out' - how people would laugh behind your back when you would get excited for a date with a guy they all knew was just messing with you, or how a boy in your class straight-up laughed in your face when you thought he was being serious about being his date to the prom. 'Shit, she actually fell for it! Damn, I didn't think she'd have the nerve to say yes! Ah, right, well...sorry love...just havin' a bit of a laugh, yeah? All in good fun.'
No, no, no...you couldn't fall for something like this again.
He can see the look in your eyes as you stay silent, and his heart pangs with guilt when he realizes how much he's probably torturing you. He decides to put you out of your misery, so before you can open your mouth to reject him again, he raises his hand to stop you. "Yeah, alright...I understand." A pathetic smile graces his features, and you can't help but feel a bit guilty at the look of disappointment on his handsome face. "Can't blame a guy for trying though, aye?"
You can't even tell if you're disappointed or relieved that he's finally given up, but you give him a grateful smile as you nod your head in understanding. Couldn't expect a guy that looks like that to put in too much effort with someone like you, right? "Right...yeah...thank for um, understanding."
"Of course..."
God, this is awkward.
The both of you stand and stare at each other for another moment longer before he turns to leave. But just as he turns to go, he stops in his tracks and thinks to himself for a second before letting out a puff of air before turning back to you. "Don't happen to have a pen, do you, love?"
You blink in surpise at the randomness of his question, but eventually nod your head and disappear for just a second before returning with one in hand.
If only you could see how nervously he tapped his fingers against the side his leg while he waited for you to come back - a habit he only ever indulged in when he couldn't contain his anxiety on missions. Something his captain always ragged on him for.
Yeah, he was absolutely hung up on you.
He tries to ignore how soft your hand is when he takes the pen from you, but he can't ignore the way your touch zaps up through his arm and straight to his heart. And from the way you tuck your arm back against your chest with hot cheeks, he can't help but wonder if you felt it, too.
He pulls a crinkled receipt from the pocket of his jacket as he gives you a nervous smile, almost like he's waiting for you to scold him for trying again. And if it isn't the most charming thing you've ever seen... “Listen…if you change your mind-“ His hand moves quickly to scribble something on the small piece of paper, and when he hands it to you, you see his number written in handwriting that is frustratingly neat for a man in a rush. “-just let me know. No pressure, of course. I’ll fuck off if you want me to, but…just thought I’d give you the option. Don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t at least offer to make it up to you.”
And you take that stupid, crinkled piece of paper from his hand against your better judgement, and to your chagrin you can feel your cheeks burning brightly enough for him to see. Luckily for you, he can't see the way your heart is dancing around in your chest at the prospect of actually having a chance with him.
"Right...ok." You mumble quietly as you stare down at his number, toying at the edges of the paper with your thumb before his voice catches your attention once more.
“Well, um…I should get going. I hope you have a good day, darling.” A part of you was horrified to realize that you didn't want him to leave just yet, but you just nod your head stiffly as he backs away from your doorstep. And god he gives you that handsome, charming smile one more time before he turns on his heel and calls over his shoulder. "I hope I get to see you again."
And you wave at him so awkwardly as he walks away, like a deer caught in headlights, but it makes his heart flutter all the same. He hopes that even if he doesn't get a chance with you, someone else will realize what a catch you are. Someone who will treat you the way you deserve. Someone like him.
It's not until much later in the day - when he's stuck in a briefing and trying not to fall asleep with Price's voice droning on johnny's already drooling on the table - that his phone vibrates in his pocket. He sneaks it out underneath the table to take a quick glance to see who could be messaging him, and his heart practically leaps out of his chest when he sees an unfamiliar number.
‘ok...maybe just one coffee.’
He can't help but smile to himself as he reads it, and before he can begin to type out a response, another message pops up on his screen. And another. And another.
'i mean, only if you're still interested, of course.'
'no pressure or anything :)'
'oh, this is y/n by the way!'
Yeah, you might be the sweetest girl he's ever met.
Thank you, Black people in fandom spaces. Thank you, Black creators and Black lurkers. Thank you Black artists, Black writers. Thank you, Black bloggers, Black influencers. Shoutout to those Black characters, both canon and original. Thank you, Black people, both queer and cishet.
Your perspectives matter. Your representation matters. You are not bothersome for demanding equal treatment in fandom. It is not your responsibility to make fandom more welcoming and inclusive to you. It is not your sole responsibility to create all of the Black-centered content. You are not "ruining" anyone's fun for demanding better for yourself, and anyone who says otherwise can go fuck themselves. Any fandom worth being a part of should have no room for racism in it.
Black people in fandom, you are wanted. You are needed. You are loved and appreciated. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
And since they don't get told it near enough, thank you, Black women especially!!!
You are not "ruining" anyone's fun for demanding better for yourself, and anyone who says otherwise can go fuck themselves. Any fandom worth being a part of should have no room for racism in it.
regularly scheduled reminder that I hate AI, I don't consent to any of my art being used for AI whether that's for chatbots or generative AI, I've never used ChatGPT or Claude or Gemini or Grok or whatever the fuck in my life and never will and I do think that makes me a better person than people who do. also if you're a "fan" of mine and willingly use AI, I think you're actively making the choice to hand over all brain function to companies owned by billionaires who hate you and humanity, which makes you pathetic and embarrassing.
Slip dress with a poem I wrote about my rabbit sewn on
random transparents I drew