#idk this is my first fic

[yourlovingfng]

Through photos and codes.

Chapter one.

Soap×Photographer&HackerFem!Reader

10 July 2011

It's 12.30 pm, you're currently in the paddock waiting for the start of the race, you decide to send a few texts, right now he's in Credenhill, not really that far away from where you're located

"How did it go this morning?"

You get no reply, he'd left you on read.

Whatever, you expected it, he will probably see it tonight.

-----

"Here you go, anything else?"

"A pen please."

"Got you."

Credenhill's hell, nothing to do but train. Soap is in a stationery at base, to celebrate he decided to get himself a journal, pocket-size, the squared lines are a bit blurred but it will work he just needs something to keep his mind busy during the hours he gets to rest.

"there you go"

"thank you."

Finding an isolated spot he decides to log the first happenings of the day:

Today he got to train with lieutenant Gaz, he thought him various ways to shoot and use a sidearm, “Remember, switching to your pistol is always faster than reloading”  grabbed even a compliment from successfully stabbing a watermelon,

Than he met Captain Price along with other members of the team, CQB test. The CQB test is a "mock-up" of the cargo ship they will infiltrate in the next upcoming mission.

-----

Is now 10 pm and you just got home, the job is pretty demanding and most of the time you take a few days off just so you can at least have a social life apart from the workplace.

You just got out of the shower and hear a notification from your phone; it's Soap.

"Where are you?"

"At home in Hereford, why?"

"You wanna grab a pint?"

"Only if you don't make me drive in circles again, like last time."

"Ah don't worry lass it's actually near base but I'll send you the location just in case."

"It better be or I'm shaving that mohawk of yours Johnny, let me get ready, I'll see you in 30 minutes"

-----

Coming to destination you search for him but it doesn't take you much to immediately recognize him,

"there's my bonnie!" he welcomes you with open arms, you reach for him  after getting out of your car and embrace his warmth tightly,

"Johnny you look like shit, went through hell in here?" you laugh looking at his face,

"just the start lass, just the start of this." he sighs maintaining eye contact, 

"at least they didn't shave that head of yours." you offer him a simple smile,

he opens the door for you and get inside, the place wasn't that crowded, it was but you could've imagined the seats getting full of soldiers, the dim yellow lights that hung down from the ceiling gave a sense of comfort and privacy accompanied with the pub's wood interior, after grabbing your pints you both took a seat at a small table nearby, in the corner of the pub, 

"So how did the breakup go?"

"it went alright, it was simple and there wasn't a fuss about it, but I feel like I lost a part of myself, I just wish we could've spent more time if it wasn't for the job. How about you?"

met with a slight pause you decide to take a sip of your pint,

"Nothing much went to the infirmary a few hours ago and the nurse tried to make advances on me"

You are taken out of surprise this time and almost choke yourself

"Did you fuck her?"

"It was a he but no."

"Well look at you pulling both genders."

[zosanbrainrot]

fanarts for the cute fic by Hazel_Athena where Sanji gets turned into a cat and Zoro is very much a cat person

[shirmirart]

after zahra finds out...

[juniemunie]

Its the kids turn!! ⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

i put way too much effort in this

Don't worry they're still FAR from the conventional nuclear family lmao

PJ is by @/7goodangel

Gradient is by @/askcomboclub

Template by @/unu-nunu-art

Error and Fresh by @/loverofpiggies

Ink by @/comyet

Design notes under!

Design Notes for PJ:

-Error patches up the tears on his scarf! Very nice of him to do.

-All the art materials he has stashed on his belt are for food. He likes to snack on em often.

-Because of Error's..."tolerance" of him, he has more strings that he can use. He's got enough to form legs.

-Fresh gifts him magical ink durable Heely shoes! Instead of shedding footprints all over the place, he can instead heely/skate around and leave behind lines. He's creative on using it during battles. He would never admit it, but he appreciates the gift.

Design Notes for Gradient:

-I based his outfit off ye old web aesthetics like Cyber Grunge,,, I really liked the big pants look on him.

-I placed his scarf on his neck to match with his family, but also to match Template's scarf hehe, a little sign of his influence.

-You can't see it but his laptop bag has a ton of pins and merch of random dated internet references.

-His shoes looking old design Ink's shoes were complete accident but I liked it enough to keep anyway. Maybe Ink gave it to him and he spiced it up!

[choccy-milky]

herbology class 🌹🌿 (from chap 2 of my fic!)

[mint-fixates]

I want to make an AU where Bill was never evil but his personality is still the same outside of that so the Pines twins show up to stay with their Great Uncle Stanford and he introduces them to his husband who's just. A funky little chaotic triangle creature from another dimension. He gives them deer teeth as welcome presents and both he and Ford (who is extremely accustomed to his weirdness after 30 years together) act like that's a Perfectly Normal Thing to Do. Dipper is LOSING it, Mabel is LOVING it (she makes a necklace and earrings out of them)

[imeriayapping]

Logan. Logan WHAT DO YOU MEAN "CAN'T GET AWAY FROM EACHOTHER"

WHAT DO YOU MEAN

[fear-is-truth]

Sukuna doesn’t believe in love. To him, it’s a frivolous notion—a human weakness he’s long since eradicated. He’s slaughtered countless sorcerers, laid waste to armies, and crushed those who dared to challenge him underfoot.

The Sun, Moon, and Stars squad and the Five Empty Generals—once revered as the most elite—all reduced to ash by his hand, their powers and pride meaningless against his might. Nothing could hold his interest for long, no one could entertain him beyond the fleeting thrill of their destruction.

So when you arrived, draped in silk kimonos that fluttered like delicate petals, he was certain you’d be just another fleeting indulgence. A concubine, a temporary amusement to sate his carnal desires until the inevitable boredom set in. He’s had many before you, each more beautiful than the last, and he’s discarded them all without a second thought.

That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

Yet, as the days bleed into nights and the moon rises and falls countless times, he finds himself lingering in your presence longer than intended. He watches the way you move with grace, each step carefully measured, your hands folding fabric or pouring tea with an elegance that comes so naturally. You’re unlike the others who have come and gone, offering themselves to him with trembling hands and downcast eyes. You don’t flinch under his gaze, don’t cower at his touch.

It should irritate him—this insolence, this challenge—but it doesn’t. It fascinates him.

One night, as you sit beside him, the flickering glow of the candles highlights the delicate features of your face, creating an almost ethereal radiance. Sukuna observes you in silence, the subtle slope of your nose and the soft curve of your lips. That’s when he realises with a bitter taste in his mouth that he’s been wrong. He hasn’t grown tired of you at all. If anything, his obsession has deepened to a point that borders on madness. You’ve become more than just a passing fancy—something more dangerous, more insidious.

Sukuna doesn’t believe in love, but he knows desire, and the way you’ve consumed him is something far more powerful than he anticipated. He knew he should sever it now, rid himself of the weakness you represent.

But he doesn’t. He won’t. He can’t.

Instead, he watches you in the dim light, eyes tracing the curves of your body beneath the silk, and feels a rare stir of something deep in his chest. He’s certain of many things, but this… this he did not foresee. And as much as he wants to deny it, a part of him knows that he’ll never tire of you.

Not in this lifetime. Not ever.

• a/n: english is not my first language, kindly ignore the grammatical errors

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[subzeroparade]

not actually part of my personal headcanon but i like to rotisserie the concept in my brain from time to time

[mulchwave]

I've been stressed out of my gourd so The Silliness Must Intensify, therefore behold my fanart of lupin iii fanfic, Supermassive Retinol Overdose! by @crimetimesteadicam, a fic i really cannot recommend enough

[keferon]

*clasps your shoulders gently and looks you straight in the eye*

Keferon. Please read Ninth by Kyn on AO3. I think you would love it very much. It has a large chapter count, but don't be intimidated, it's very easy to get into. It is currently unfinished, but is being updated regularly.

You are the seventh person that recommended this fic to me so ahahahaha yeah

I’m doing great Help I hate some parts of it but I love the other parts I’m spinning in the blender

…..I made the moodboard….

[littlegayteaboy]

it's here!!!

my fic for @zukkabigbang2024!!!!

thank you so much to @syciaralynx for beta'ing and to @umossu for making the wonderful art for this!!

[c0mbatchameleon]

Snippet / microfic / something idk

Aka where Regulus wakes up half drunk on the floor of his brother’s apartment and forgets that the spare bedroom is no longer a spare bedroom

The moonlight has carved out a hollowness into the room when Regulus opens his eyes. There’s music playing, still, for an audience of empty cups and a few toppled chairs and the snoring bodies of his friends on the couch.

Barty is splayed out over Evan, face buried into his neck like he doesn’t need air, but rather, he lives and breathes the boy beneath him. Evan’s hand has planted roots in his skull, twisted into matted hair. Flecks of glitter sprinkle every inch of the boys, a sparkle here and there in their hair, embedded in their skin, their eyelashes and parted lips. They’re a grimy sort of angelic in their blacked-out state, sleep blanketing them in an innocence you’d never find otherwise.

It’s not the first time he’s waken here, stiff back and sour taste in his mouth. He stumbles to the kitchen sink and sticks his head in, letting the water run rivers down his face and neck as he drinks it in gulps. It’s about a full minute of that, and then running his hands over his face for good measure, before he continues his trek to the bathroom, scouring the cabinet for mouthwash and taking a swig straight from the bottle and then swishing it and spitting into the sink, hands gripping the porcelain to hold up his own weight. It’s a wonder he’s been able to stand for this long with exhaustion dragging him down like an anchor tied to his limbs.

He trails behind himself into the hall and then his usual room, hands held out in front of him in the absence of sight. It takes a minute to find the bed. Once he does, he’s unceremoniously tugging back the covers and collapsing onto the mattress, sleep already overtaking him.

He sighs, half in relief and half in pain, pulling up the covers and-

“Well this is new.”

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.”

Regulus’s skull collides with the headboard before he can form a cohesive thought.

Sleep has made a hasty retreat, driven out by adrenaline and pure fear. The man in his bed—James, to be specific—instinctively shoots a hand out, clasping onto his arm.

“Shit, are you okay?”

“What the fuck are you doing here!?” Regulus whisper-yells, propped halfway up on his arm with the other hand clutching his head.

“What am I doing in my bed?”

Regulus blinks. Fuck. He forgot this bed actually belonged to someone. Not just someone. Of course, never just someone.

“I… forgot you lived here.”

His eyes have adjusted to the darkness, now. He watches James stare at him, dumbfounded, for a few beats. And then he bursts into a fit of laughter.

Of course the fucker is laughing. It blooms on his face like Spring itself; even here, dimly lit and squinting, it’s blinding. Rays of sunlight cutting through his teeth as he gasps for breath inbetween. Flower and leaf and fruit sprouting from his throat, and Regulus is just too tipsy to avoid the vines coiling around him, his arms and legs and chest, taking root in his own throat, planting seeds in his lungs.

He’s too tired to fight the branches stretching out like hands and pulling at the corners of his own lips, coercing a smaller laugh. He doesn’t even think it’s that funny, maybe James is just delirious. Maybe he’s still a little drunk, too.

“You forgot I lived here. In my room. In my apartment.” James relays, his hysterics reigned in to a splitting grin. Blinding, blinding, still blinding. He’s on his side, head resting in his hand—the other hand is still on Regulus, a light touch burning holes through his clothes, the skin on his shoulder, the muscle and bone marrow, planting more seeds, sprouting more life. He’s staring up at Regulus with sparkling eyes. Who gave him this much joy? Who gave him the idea to direct any of it his way?

Even here, in the middle of the night, waking him up just to shed glitter on his clean sheets and yell at him for existing in his own home.

Regulus doesn’t deserve it. But he can’t find it in himself to deny it right now.

“I may have, uh, passed out in here drunk a few times when you weren’t here last year.”

“A few times?” James asked, eyebrows raised, hand still there.

“Ok. Maybe a lot. Forgot it wasn’t actually mine,” Regulus admits, trying not to shortcircuit from the contact. Trying to relocate the mask of indifference he misplaced after the 3rd or 4th shot. He can just barely feel he’s still smiling, stupidly. He can’t find the right muscles to make it go away.

The analog clock on the dresser across the room reads 3:27 AM in a blue glow. Regulus knows the sensible thing to do now is get up, but the soft arms of sleep are extending from somewhere below, furling around his body and pulling down. The mattress, James’s mattress, might be the softest thing he’s ever laid rest on and it’s enveloping him like quicksand. He lets his head drop forward like dead weight as he musters the strength to move.

“Well don’t let me stop you, then,” James says, amusement and something strangely resembling adoration painted on his face. “I can sleep on the couch, if you want.”

It’s all way too casual for the absolutely absurd offer.

Regulus stares at him in disbelief. “You’re just gonna let me kick you out of your own bed.”

James shrugs, “You look comfy.”

There’s the distant hum of a car engine passing outside, an intermittent clicking sound from the run down heater in the room. The window shade is somewhat transparent, which defeats the whole fucking purpose of the thing, much to Regulus’s annoyance—he’s awoken, against his will to many a sunrise in this room—and a nearby streetlight gently pollutes the darkness, illuminating James from behind in a halo of muted yellow light.

“That’s fucking ridiculous,” Regulus replies, still not moving. James laughs softly. A few daisies sprout in the garden growing between them. “Barty and Evan are on the couch, anyway.”

“I’ll take the floor then.”

“You’re not sleeping on the fucking floor for me.”

“Well I’m more than happy to share, then.”

“You’re not- what?” His bemusement distracts him momentarily from the growing effort of keeping his eyes open. James squeezes his shoulder lightly, the bastard, drawing a small breath from him that he hopes to god goes unheard, before finally drawing back his hand.

“I sleep on the floor or we both sleep here. Your choice.”

“And if I sleep on the floor?”

“I’ll still sleep on the floor out of spite. I don’t think you could get up if you tried, right now, anyway.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Regulus groans. He fully collapses in defeat onto the pillow as he says it, which might take some of the edge out of the remark.

“I really don’t mind the floor, love. Good for the back and all. I’ve got tons of extra pillows and blankets, anyway,” James says, gesturing to the floor next to his bed.

“Just sleep in the god damn bed,” Regulus sighs. He shuffles so he’s on his back, one arm bent over his head rather dramatically, and closes his eyes. He’s fully relented in his battle with his own exhaustion now, and it’s closing in fast.

James doesn’t move for a moment. Regulus can feel his gaze like a beam of sunlight through a magnifying glass. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to smell his own clothes begin to smoke in the wake of it. “Are you sure?” he finally asks, playful tone receding. “I just- I should warn you I’m a bit of an.. active sleeper. And I know you don’t always like people touching you-“

“It’s alright when it’s you.”

It comes out nearly a whisper now as he sinks. He’ll blame it on alcohol or delirium, tomorrow, if he’s not outright denying having said it. He doesn’t actually know why he said it out loud. Regulus usually keeps the truth to himself, as a general rule.

The last thing he hears before falling asleep is James’s small intake of breath, followed by a faint “Oh. Yeah?” and then reality rescinds entirely.

[mh2o29]

aight pack it up guys

[pencilofawesomeness]

from chapter 10 of Famous Last Words in May Death Never Stop You by the amazing @slexenskee

I've wanted to draw this scene ever since I read it lmao. Fun fact I was eating lunch at the time and I was laughing so hard I had to leave the room since someone was watching tv. Good times, good times.

[leenfiend]

what's ur type first < prev next > full comic