#task two

[milkxhoneyyy]

Welcome to my humble abode!

The living room is basked in a gentle light to keep the atmosphere soft. The kitchen features modern and slick appliances and is used every night for dinner. Two bedrooms occupy the hallway, with the home office in middle. Outside in the front, is usually decorated to reflect the mood of the month and a salt water pool takes up most of the backyard. Clara lives alone and prefers it that way. You can usually find her dancing in the kitchen or reading in the living room.

Clara has two favorite rooms: the kitchen and her home office. Both places spark creativity in her mind in different ways. She loves to make delicious food and host dinner parties. But the office is where she really lets her mind go wild. It's where she comes up with all her ideas for the boutique, drawing her talents on the paper, fingers dipped in charcoal. Her entire house is a comfort for Clara and she's eternally grateful to call NOLA home.

[atalana]

the curse of adhd:

i will remember with absolute clarity, when the thought strikes me that i have a text to send someone, that this is the fourth time in three days i've attempted to send this specific text

i will forget, in the time it takes me to pick up my phone, that i picked it up intending to send a text

[akanemnon]

Worth a shot

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[subliminalghoest]

Safe house

Ghoap x f!reader

The safehouse was barebones—four walls, a door that didn’t close properly, and a single narrow bed shoved against the wall like an afterthought. One thin blanket. No heater. Concrete floors so cold they bit through your boots.

Soap stepped in first, glancing around with a sigh. “Right, well. Guess this place was built for one poor bastard, not three.”

Ghost dropped his gear by the wall with a grunt. “I’ll take the floor.”

“Hell no,” you said automatically, slinging your pack down. “You’ll freeze.”

“I’m used to it.”

Soap rolled his eyes and gave Ghost a flat look. “You’ve got enough screws loose without adding hypothermia to the list.”

“Then I’ll take the floor,” you offered, already tugging at your jacket zipper. “I’m small enough to crash on my pack.”

Both men gave you the same sharp look.

“No,” Ghost said, voice final.

“You’ll ache for a week,” Soap added. “We’re not doing that.”

You all stood there a moment, silent, stubborn. Then Soap looked at the bed again and shrugged.

“We’re all adults. One bed, three bodies. Head to toe if we have to.”

You arched a brow. “Ever tried sleeping with Ghost’s boots near your face?”

Ghost snorted, the faintest smirk in his voice. “I’m not sleeping in my boots, you know.”

Eventually, an agreement was made: all three of you in the bed, boys facing outward—Ghost on one side, Soap on the other, and you safe in the middle. They’d flank you, keep you warm, no funny business. Just sleep.

That had been the plan, anyway.

You weren’t sure what time it was when you woke up—just that the moonlight had shifted and the room was bathed in soft silver. You were too warm, wrapped in heat that had nothing to do with the thin blanket.

Soap’s arm was slung lazily over your waist, his hand resting just beneath the hem of your shirt, skin-to-skin and entirely unbothered. His breath tickled the curve of your neck, soft and steady. One of his legs had somehow worked its way between yours, your leg hitched over his.

Behind you, Ghost was molded to your back, chest pressed close, the slow rise and fall of his breath an anchor against your spine. One of his arms wrapped around your middle, the other tucked beneath the pillow you shared. Protective. Possessive. Present.

You shifted slightly, caught between warmth and awareness, and felt Soap's fingers twitch.Ghost’s hand tightened, just a fraction. Like they both felt it too.

Your breath hitched.

It wasn’t anything overt. Nothing crude. You were surrounded, caged in heat and strength and quiet tension.

And God, it felt good.

You could’ve pulled back. Should’ve. But you didn’t. You leaned in—drifting your fingers along Ghost’s forearm, letting your leg press deeper against Soap’s. Neither man spoke, but Soap’s breath caught, quiet and sharp.

Ghost... Ghost exhaled against the back of your neck, slow and deliberate, his face pressing in closer.

You fell asleep again like that—wrapped in the kind of tension that lulled you rather than startled. Wanting to stay wrapped in this dream a little longer before having to face reality.

—————————————————————————

The second time you woke, it was slower—every inch of your body aware before your mind caught up.

Warmth. Weight. Pressure. Breath against your throat.

Soap had shifted in the night, his head now tucked beneath your chin, resting lightly on your bicep. Your arm had curled around him, cradling him. His hand had drifted lower, fingers curved gently around the dip of your thigh. Your hips pressed snugly to his. Innocent, but barely.

Behind you, Ghost had only pulled you closer—his hand now splayed along your ribs, thumb rhythmically stroking the soft skin just under your breast.

You stayed still. Testing the moment.

Then you moved—just a little. A shift, nothing more.

Soap stirred against you, his body pressing closer.

Ghost’s hand stilled… then resumed its slow stroke.

Deliberate. Intentional.

“You’re awake,” came Ghost’s voice—low, gravelly. Dangerous.

You swallowed. “Didn’t mean to move.”

“Didn’t say stop.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Soap chuckled, his voice still thick with sleep and something else. “Think she likes waking up between us.” He arched his neck up and you felt his nose run up your neck, running back down to your collar bone where he nuzzled into you.

Your breath hitched.

“You’re imagining things,” you mumbled, but your voice betrayed you. Soft. Breathless.

“You sure about that?” Ghost leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear through the mask. “Because from where I’m lying, you haven’t moved away.”

You didn’t respond. Couldn’t. You were burning now—trapped between them and completely unwilling to escape.

Soap shifted again, his hand trailing down your thigh, thumb brushing the edge of your shorts. “We won’t do anything you don’t want, love,” he murmured.

“But if you want something…” Ghost said, voice dropping to a low, dark promise, “…just say it.”

The silence stretched.

And you wondered how you were going to convince yourself that this was a bad idea.

Part two Here

[stars-and-branches]

why is he so cunty

[parisoonic]

these effing guys

[partlyironic]

hello everyone here is a greg/alex fan edit made by channel 4 for valentine's day

[reginalusus]

No fic animation this time because I'm actually writing it, so take this TFZ thing instead, lmao. And, yes, I kept their white hair because I believe in their white, fluffy hair supremacy, yes.

Two bits of the process shown on my dumb Ko-Fi.

Panels it's based on under the cut:

Obviously I had to take some directorial decisions with the dialogue.

[darkbunnylove]

something something Gaz and Soap calling you over for “practice” but it always ends with three half-empty bottles of lube scattered on the bed, their voices melting together into a sweet “almost there, love, just a little more” while you’re already seeing stars because they’re way too determined to fit inside you at the same time.

[callofdoobie420]

Short ~lil~ ghoap thought…

Johnny who absolutely adores you in the most outward of ways. Fingers always intertwined with yours, kisses to your forehead, hand occasionally (okay all the time) sneaking down to your ass. Featherlight kisses ghosting over your cheeks and neck, even as you both sit with Simon on a massive picnic blanket in the park.

Simon who still shows his love when out and about, but he does this by following you and Johnny closely wherever you go, clocking any potential threats, and being constantly on alert so that neither you or Johnny have to be. A large hand to the small of your back whenever Johnny had to step away — couldn’t leave their sweet angel without a small touch.

While Johnny might be a soldier too, Simon has spent his whole life constantly on alert. He doesn’t mind giving the Scot a chance to just relax, and be happy with their bonnie lass.

And their sweet girl who always ensures they both feel equal love, even when they each show theirs differently. You’ve learned how to provide for each, in the way they love best.

(PS. I know there’s probably rough grammar, I do apologize! I just rambled this out of my head. Also I’m mid tax season so after April 15th I’ll be much better!!)

[muppenthings]

First part | Previous | Next

Arion is having The Worst Day™. But for Taniel it's just a day's work.

Last panel is the face of Cetus' brain catching up again and realizing who he just snarled at. :)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy Birthday to Fallen London; My favourite British people beefing it with bats simulator.

[goatgoesmbe]

Implied age gap, reader is about 20

Imagine being adopted by Kate Laswell and her wife.

One day, Kate decided to invite some of her colleagues back home. Hanging out, catching up, stuffing bellies full of food.

It didn't take a long time for said colleagues to take interest in you, and of course- Kate being the mama bear she was, noticed.

Her eyes narrowed everytime one of them- or more, started getting too cozy with you. Or in some cases, laying it on thick with the flirting.

But she couldn't do anything with her wife squeezing her hand, reassuring her that you're more than capable of putting your foot down if you're not interested and feel uncomfortable.

Alright, she wouldn't step in for now. But that doesn't mean she's not gonna send her glare from the other side of the room.

But that's ok, the boys wouldn't mind putting in an effort to get mama's approval to date you.

[noecoded]

heartbreaking:the worst people you know just started an emo band

[nocofamilyau]

A fortunate ending???

HAHA SUCKED IN

APRIL FOOLS!!! don't worry tho, the real final part to this arc will come about in the next few days, this just felt right at this moment.

[kapankyo]

my experience with samfro idk