aoioozora

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warm up doodle of my wife

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— mini moodboard headers & dividers | space

[perfect for intros and pinned posts! ✨]

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

Please consider liking or reblogging if you use 💕

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David "hand" walker

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BASEBALL ARTHUR!!

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team

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SISTER FINALLY OPENED HER INBOX🗣️🗣️‼️‼️

Welcome back!

Thanks babygirl <3

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Why do people on here who send hate asks in the inbox go anon? C'mon don't be a pussy, let me see who you are so you can catch these hands

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"You look lost."

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Late-night encounters and the games we play

Pre Caracas Gabriel T Rorke X (medical) Reader

This is an apology for not finishing that work in progress. I forgot that I finished this one😵‍💫 im pretty sure it’s no gender but please correct me if I’m wrong.

No warnings

————————

The night was deep, the air thick with the lingering scent of cigars and cheap whiskey. The low hum of conversation in the officer’s lounge had faded as the night stretched on, leaving only three men at the table. Merrick, Elias, and Rorke nursed the bottom of their drinks, the camaraderie of war-hardened men evident in the comfortable silence.

“You’re pushing too hard,” Elias said, swirling his glass. His tone was casual, but the meaning ran deeper.

Rorke let out a low chuckle, leaning back in his chair, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. “That’s the job.” He exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders like a predator shaking off the day’s hunt. “We don’t get the luxury of slowing down.”

Merrick raised a brow. “Maybe not, but you could try acting like you’re still human. For morale.”

Rorke scoffed, tipping his drink back. “Morale’s your job, Merrick.”

It wasn’t long before they called it a night, and Rorke made his way back through the base. The halls were quiet, save for the occasional radio chatter in the distance. The tactical lighting cast sharp shadows against the walls, but something else caught his attention—the soft glow spilling out from the medical office.

Your office.

His boots moved on their own. He didn’t need an excuse to stop, but he told himself he was just curious. That was a lie, and he knew it. The tension between you and him had been there for a while now—silent, unspoken, but very much alive.

You weren’t one to be impressed by him. And that irritated him more than it should.

Rorke leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as he took in the sight of you. You were hunched over your desk, flipping through patient charts, your fingers pressing against your temple in exhaustion. The crease between your brows told him you were running on fumes.

“Didn’t realize medics had a death wish too,” he drawled, breaking the silence.

Your head snapped up, a flicker of surprise quickly masked by unimpressed exhaustion. “Didn’t realize the mighty Gabriel Rorke took detours through the infirmary.”

His smirk widened. “Maybe I just like watching you suffer.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes before turning back to your papers. “If you’re not dying, I don’t have time for you.”

He stepped inside anyway, ignoring your blatant attempt to dismiss him. His presence filled the space, all heat and intensity as he leaned against your desk, his fingers idly toying with a pen.

“You should get some sleep.”

You shot him a dry look. “You first.”

Rorke let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m not the one about to drop dead in a pile of charts.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered, scrawling something onto a report.

He grinned. There it was—that fire.

You never bowed to him, never gave him what he wanted. And somehow, that made him want to push harder.

He plucked a file from your desk and flipped through it with little care, earning a sharp glare from you. “You always this stubborn?”

You snatched the folder back. “You always this insufferable?”

His smirk didn’t falter. “Only when I like someone.”

The air shifted. Subtle. Dangerous. Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to play it off, shaking your head with a quiet scoff. “Flattery doesn’t work on me.”

He leaned in just enough to test you, his voice dropping an octave. “Good thing I wasn’t trying to flatter you.”

You swallowed, your pulse betraying you despite your best efforts to appear unaffected. His eyes flicked down to your lips for half a second before he straightened, stepping back as if it was nothing. As if he hadn’t just left you teetering on the edge of something you didn’t know how to handle.

“Go to bed,” he ordered, voice softer now but still carrying that unshakable authority.

“I’m fine.”

He scoffed, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you. “Of course you are.”

Then, just as you were about to roll your eyes again, he kissed you.

Swift, deliberate, and entirely unexpected. His lips were warm, demanding, yet not rushed. A test. A taunt. A declaration.

By the time your brain caught up, he was already pulling away, that damn smirk firmly back in place as he studied your expression like he’d just won some kind of game.

You opened your mouth—maybe to demand an explanation, maybe to call him an arrogant bastard—but nothing came out.

“Sweet dreams, doc.” His voice was smug, laced with something deeper.

And then he was out the door just as he came.

You sat there, heart hammering against your ribs, staring at the empty doorway like it held all the answers. What the hell just happened?

But when morning came, and you saw him again with the team, you did the only thing you could.

You acted like it never happened.

—————————

The morning rolled in too fast, dragging you back into the relentless cycle of treating injuries, dealing with soldiers who refused to follow medical orders, and drowning in paperwork.

And pretending last night never happened.

You’d gone over it a dozen times in your head, trying to rationalize it. Maybe it had been the whiskey on his breathe. Maybe it was just Rorke being Rorke—arrogant, pushy, and so damn sure of himself.

But the way he kissed you… He didn’t do anything not on purpose.

Not that it mattered.

You weren’t the type to lose yourself over something fleeting, especially not with a man who was more committed to war than anything else. You had no illusions about what kind of person Rorke was. He was a soldier first. Always.

So when you walked into the main tent where the rest of the Ghosts were gathered for briefing, you kept your head high, expression neutral, and carried on like normal.

Like nothing had happened.

And he noticed.

Rorke was standing next to Merrick, arms crossed, his posture easy but his gaze sharp. He tracked you the moment you entered, those dark eyes brimming with amusement. He was waiting for something—a reaction, an acknowledgment, anything.

You gave him nothing.

Instead, you focused on sorting through the morning’s reports, half-listening as Elias went over upcoming drills and deployment schedules. The occasional glance was thrown your way, but you ignored them all.

Especially his.

And that’s when you heard it—the deep, knowing chuckle.

You didn’t have to look to know it came from Rorke.

The bastard was enjoying this.

You felt the weight of his stare, the silent challenge it carried. He was waiting to see how long you could keep up the act.

Fine. You’d call his bluff.

“Hey,” Merrick said, snapping you from your thoughts. You looked up to find him watching you with mild concern. “You good?”

You nodded easily. “Just tired.”

Elias smirked. “That’s what happens when you pull all-nighters.”

Before you could respond, Rorke’s voice cut through. Low. Amused. Dangerous.

“Yeah, doc. You should really take better care of yourself.”

You felt the heat of his gaze as if he were standing too close, even though he hadn’t moved an inch. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you, but you refused to react.

“Appreciate the concern, Captain,” you said smoothly, flipping a page in your folder. “But I manage just fine.”

Merrick glanced between you and Rorke, brows furrowed slightly as if he was trying to figure something out. Elias, caught on quicker, a knowing smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

Rorke, however, was still watching you like a predator watching its prey.

You didn’t flinch.

Didn’t let him win.

“Alright, enough,” Elias finally said, cutting through whatever was brewing in the air. “We’ve got work to do.”

The meeting continued, but you weren’t stupid. The game wasn’t over.

If anything, it had just begun.

—————————

You were making rounds in the infirmary, taking inventory and preparing for the next wave of chaos when you heard footsteps behind you.

You knew who it was before you even turned around.

“I thought I told you to go to bed last night,” Rorke drawled, leaning against the supply cabinet like he had all the time in the world.

You didn’t bother looking up from your clipboard. “I did.”

He snorted. “Liar.”

You sighed, finally glancing at him. “What do you want, Rorke?”

His smirk deepened. “Oh, so we’re back to names now?”

You leveled him with a dry stare. “Would you prefer Captain?”

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re really gonna pretend that didn’t happen?”

Your heart stuttered, but you held your ground. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Rorke pushed off the cabinet, closing the space between you in two slow steps. He was taller, broader—intimidating to most. But not to you. Not really.

“You’re good,” he murmured, voice lower now, softer but no less dangerous. “Almost convincing.”

Your fingers tightened around your clipboard, knuckles white.

He noticed.

His smirk turned downright wicked.

“That’s fine, doc,” he said, stepping back like he hadn’t just completely rattled you. “I can play this game as long as you can.”

And just like last night—he left first.

Leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Alone with the undeniable truth.

As if the bastard would ever leave you alone.

.

.

.

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This is my result!

Tagging @polskasroka @shanadraws @emstargazer and anyone interested!

found a fun little personality test!

i am open tagging as always bc i wanna see everyone’s results!!!!!!

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I know why BlackTacMopsi deleted her account 😏

Ok

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Instructions for how to download a Youtube video using VLC on Reddit

Instructions for how to navigate the underworld on an Orphic gold tablet

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Quick what are you doing RIGHT now (besides scrolling Tumblr)

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◦˚~ SET OF BLUE DIVIDERS ~˚◦

Requested by: @rosaeh Info: these were all made by me. please follow my rules & reblog/like if use!

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Your hc for how 141 would react to their team-crush being simped over, was incredible! No notes!

May I request something similar, only this time it’s for Ghost team??

Thank you!! Ofc, here you go 😘 So sorry this took so long. ENJOY!

Ghost Team: How They React to Their Team-Crush Being Simped Over

Note: Team Crush is female. Skipping Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Price because you can read it in the og ask here. I hope I got the team members right lol

Alejandro Vargas:

Looks visibly angry. Furrowed brow, angry, clenched fists, clenched jaw

He has to take deep breaths to calm down.

Es sola una mujer. That's what he tries to tell himself but no, she's not just any woman.

He'd casually go up to her, call out her name loudly and greet her in front of everyone

And he'd ask her if she wants to hang out.

If she accepts, he'll put a hand in her shoulder and lead her away, smirking to himself.

Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parra:

He can get a little despairing at first, and might even consider backing off because some of her admirers look and seem way better than him.

But he'd watch her carefully to see how she reacts to their pickup lines, compliments, suave, moves. He'd see what sort of man she responds best to.

Only when he's absolutely certain about her, he'll build up the courage to make his move.

He'd be hiding a mess of nerves under his cool, calm exterior as he does.

Phillip Graves:

The first sight of it makes him click his tongue.

He'd definitely stare daggers at every single person who looked her way, and he'd do it for DAYS.

He'll intercept anyone who dares approach her, pretending he needs them for something-- just so he can divert their attention away from her.

And then he'd give them a very subtle threat when they're out of earshot.

And when everything is settled and he has shooed away all competition, he'll make his move.