#write that on my tombstone

[lifemod17]

"i am violently bisexual and dtf" - ziggyztarduzt 2024

[adollt]

i love googie

[sgt-tombstone]

Marriage Fraud

John MacTavish and Kyle Garrick had gotten married at 15:00 on a Tuesday afternoon in October. There was little fanfare; the civil ceremony took place in the Register Office closest to base with Price and Gaz’s sister as witnesses. They had signed their names on the dotted lines with a flourish, had kissed each other through crooked, boyish grins, and that had been that.

John MacTavish and Kyle Garrick hadn’t dated for a single day prior to their nuptials, with the exception of a week-long drunken bet during basic that both of them had been too stubborn to back out of, and their engagement had lasted the legally-required 28 days. It was marriage fraud, plain and simple; the two men had met in basic training and had forged a brotherhood in between grueling days and sporadic nights, and then the pact was formed. Both of them had gotten thoroughly sick and tired of living in the barracks and relying on mess hall food and, without any long-term significant others to pop the question to, they had decided to take matters into their own hands. When they both passed SAS selection, both setting new records, it had seemed like a sign.

The marriage pact had been Kyle’s idea, so Johnny had been the one to propose, if his half-slurred, half-asleep suggestion could even be called a proposal, but Gaz had readily agreed and the next morning, they had burst into Price’s office, demanding both his blessing and presence at the ceremony. His eyebrows had disappeared into his hairline and he had nearly choked to death on his cigar smoke, but he had agreed to both nonetheless.

That had been over three years ago.

In the three years since, as they climbed the ranks from Private to Corporal to Sergeant, the topic of their marriage hardly ever came up. They wore their respective rings, both made from recycled bullet casings, on their right hands instead of their left, and they never mentioned it to anyone. If anyone wondered how they had gotten permission to live off base or why they commuted to work more often than not, no one ever thought to ask them, and they never volunteered any answers. They shared their house like roommates, respecting both each other’s privacy and dating lives, which were few and far between. Dating in the military was hard enough without being Spec Ops, so any relationship either of them ever had never lasted long enough for their fake marriage to ever be remotely close to an issue.

And then the 141 was formed.

It was a dream come true for both of them. They had both already been SAS under Price’s command, but the specialization of the task force brought a certain job security that ensured their continued cohabitation. The SAS’s base of operations was in Herefordshire, so that’s where Soap and Gaz had bought their house, but there had always been the threat of relocation to any of the other British Army bases across the world, and there was no guarantee that they would have been transferred together. The 141, however, was a cohesive unit, a permanent placement. Wherever one went, the rest were sure to follow.

The task force also brought Ghost.

At first, Johnny hadn’t given Ghost much thought, especially where his fake marriage was concerned. Ghost didn’t seem the type to concern himself overmuch with the personal details of his teammates, up to and including their sexual orientations, living situations, or marital statuses. He himself lived off base, courtesy of being a commissioned officer rather than enlisted, and never seemed to devote a first thought, much less a second one, to Soap and Gaz’s own off-base housing. More often than not, they were in the field anyway, which limited nearly every avenue of personal conversation and, after nearly four years of their marriage being little more than a technical detail on a form somewhere, both Soap and Gaz often forgot that they were even married in the first place.

So Soap didn’t think much of it when he started flirting with Ghost over the comms. Ghost was a scary son of a bitch, but that had always been his type, and he couldn’t deny that the mask did something for him. Hell, everything about Ghost did something for him. It had started as banter, really, but Soap loved to toe the line, and it was a slippery slope that he was all too eager to throw himself down. What was truly shocking was Ghost’s own willingness to play along. And then the flirting turned into… more. Turned into casual physical touch that Ghost would’ve slit anyone else’s throat for even thinking about initiating, turned into whispered promises in the backs of helos before missions, turned into kisses pressed into gloved knuckles and masked cheeks.

And suddenly, Soap realized that his marriage might be an issue.

His relationship with Ghost, while technically undefined, was by far the most serious and potentially long-lasting relationship he’d had since signing his marriage license. Most of the people he had dated over the years hadn’t been military and had quickly grown tired of the inconsistency, the missed birthdays and anniversaries, the lack of communication while he’d been on mission, and the lack of leave time in general. But not Ghost, because Ghost got it. Half of the time, Ghost was right there in the field with him. There wasn’t any inconsistency with them, no lack of leave time to grumble over, no shortage of communication between them, both in person and over comms. Their relationship worked for exactly the same reasons why his and Gaz’s non-relationship had worked for so long: they both understood.

And suddenly, Soap realized that, after four years of hiding a marriage to his best friend in the world from quite literally everyone he knew, he’d have to fess up. Not only that, he’d have to file for divorce, which was something that neither he nor Gaz had taken into consideration when they had signed their names in the Register Office all those years ago.

It all came to a head when Johnny got injured in the field. Nothing major, just a few broken bones and a hell of a concussion, but he had woken up to Gaz and Ghost sitting on either side of his hospital bed, Gaz’s clear contrition only matched by Ghost’s clear confusion. The first question out his mouth was why Gaz was listed as Soap’s next of kin and emergency contact, which snowballed into a full confession, corroborated by Price when he stuck his head in to check on Soap a few minutes later.

Ghost, after recovering from his initial shock, found the entire situation hilarious and, months later, after both the divorce papers and the new notice of marriage had gone through, took delight in calling himself Johnny’s second husband, which never failed to make any rookie caught eying the sergeant shake in their boots at the thought of what someone like Ghost did to Johnny’s first husband. Soap and Gaz still wore their rings, because they had always been more like friendship bracelets than anything else, and Johnny’s left ring finger was quickly occupied by a silver ring made from one of Simon’s ID Discs.

Gaz was disappointed about having to move back into on-base housing, but it didn’t last long because Price had been waiting for four years for his sergeants to figure their shit out and file for divorce so that he could make his move and he wasn’t about a waste a single second. And if anyone accused them of moving too quickly, well… they were all military men, after all.

[themarsbar]

what if they're doing it on purpose. what if it happened once by chance and it felt especially soft and gentle and caring so now they hold hands with two fingers because they made it their thing. what then

[lunar-years]

I promise I will shut about this after tonight but Phil absolutely deserved it and even though I know in my bones he’s got a bright career ahead of him and will get his Emmy one day, I so wanted him to win for playing Jamie. That character has meant so much to me across three seasons now and that’s all thanks to what an amazing job Phil did with him. He deserves the recognition so much and has for a long time now and I am very sad he missed out yet again in what feels like a long line of justtt coming up short. Anyway. Winner in my heart ❤️

[ohno-the-sun]

Sunspot drawn in a weekly magma

Character by @venomous-qwille

[its-your-mind]

He is with the sea now.

The deep will care for his bones.

[krotiation]

I truly believe if they did live action HJ Dameon could pull it off that man manifests Handsome Jack energy he could do it I’ve never seen a VA so committed to a character as him

He already exuded hjack vibes in how to be a serial killer 4 years before bl2 even came out. He's literally part of his dna

[txmbstone]

Hanahaki disease with the Cowboys. That’s it. That’s the title

[notwithout-mymuse]

I’m sorry but “I vow to be the caretaker of your wild heart” is the greatest wedding vow of all time.

[mrs-gauche]

@thedreadblog AH, THANK YOU AGAIN!! ❤❤❤😭 It's still so crazy... I was gonna say don't worry, I have mastered the art of body hopping like Mythal, but you know.. I think I'm actually just Manfred now 😂😂 Just a living corpse, but a very happy, fashionable one!

[rattledazzlebones]

To my Tombstone girlies, need yall to know I haven't forgotten about you... I've got something cooking up that I think you'll like. Have a sneak peak >:)

“They’ve been dancin’ around each other for years now at this point, and it never gets less pathetic,” Kate sighed, watching the two men at the poker table. Josephine was looking as well, and she knew that Wyatt wasn’t even playing, just sitting beside Doc and watching him play. 

“Any reason why they’re like this?” Josephine mused, sipping from her gin. 

Kate grimaced. “Wyatt had it in his head to settle down for appearances. He and Doc had a bit of a thing going a few years back, but they broke it off when he got with Mattie,” she explained, face twisting unhappily at the other woman’s name. 

“What’s her story then?” Josephine asked, narrowing her eyes at how close Wyatt was leaning to Doc.

“She’s come to rely a little too much on her laudanum, if you catch my meaning. Never really treated Wyatt right either, in my opinion, but I figured that one might be mutual. They just…” she sighed. “Aren’t a good fit.”

Curious, Josephine turned her gaze back on Kate. “And you don’t mind Doc trying to get back with Wyatt?”

Kate shrugged. “Oh, we’ll always love each other, that I have no doubt. But we always knew our relationship to be one of convenience and comfort. It’s hard to find anyone with our kinds of proclivities this far west.”

Josephine hummed, considering that answer. She didn’t miss that one little word: our. With her sights definitively set away from Wyatt, well… 

“Very sweet,” she finally settled on, looking back at the men pretending not to be disgustingly in love with each other. 

Kate couldn’t help but grimace yet again. “It ain’t sweet. It’s exhausting.”

Josephine could only laugh and finish her gin. Yeah, she got that.

[thyandrawrites]

R: "All you gotta do is look at me"

N: "Yes, I know. I just looked away slightly"

me: wait, I don't remember this line exhange being so gay. how was it in english?

the eng version:

me: oh well. I'll take it 😏🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

[sgt-tombstone]

headcanon that Ghost doesn’t know how to drive a manual transmission. Military vehicles are all automatic, and he’d never had a reason or opportunity to learn, so he just… hadn’t. At least, not well. He’d driven stick shifts enough to understand the basics and not stall every time he got behind the wheel, but it’s not something he’s super comfortable with

When he retires (or is forced to retire), the car that Price sets him up with is a manual. He makes it back to the flat (that Price also set him up with) with no small amount of frustration, and he spends the rest of the following week in a state of near-paralysis

If it were just the car, it would be fine. He’s not afraid of learning new things, and he’s definitely not one to let his own pride get in the way of being a functional adult human being. But it’s not just the car. It’s the disruption to his whole routine, the stark unfamiliarity of civilian life, the fundamental alteration of his entire life being uprooted and hastily replanted. The car is just the physical embodiment of it

He’s avoids driving as much as possible, because he hates the reminder that things are different. If he just stays in his flat, he can almost pretend that he’s just on leave. So he lives on take-out, he doesn’t furnish his flat past the bare essentials, he doesn’t let himself settle in

It all comes to a head when Johnny tries to visit on his leave. He asks Simon to pick him up at the airport, and Simon… can’t. He’s built such a mental barrier around his car, the physical manifestation of everything slipping out of control in his life, and he just… can’t

He calls Johnny, who’s obviously still at the airport if the background noise is any indication, and he pours it all out. The empty flat, the constant take-out, the unmoored feeling, and above all, the fucking car. He’s scared, he’s alone, he’s in over his head, and it’s the first time he’s admitted any of it. When he finishes his outpouring of uncharacteristic emotion, Johnny just says, “I’ll help you buy a new car,” like it’s that easy, like that will solve everything

And it does, because the car was never just a car. Johnny cashes in all of his built-up leave time and helps Simon pick out a new (automatic transmission) car. He helps Simon shop for furniture, even if it takes all day and they both leave the store frustrated with nothing to show for it. He helps Simon stock his pantry with ingredients, snacks, and pre-prepared meals, because some days are worse than others. He helps Simon get his feet underneath him, because it’s something he’s never had to do before

He never drives a manual transmission again and he thinks that maybe that’s okay

[dailykeiji]

In the original muppet tags you said jokingly it was your magnum opus

You never expected to be right

Two sentence horror story

I HATE IT HERE

[darkgoverness]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕲𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖞𝖆𝖗𝖉 𝕼𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓 sits and mourns again, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕲𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖞𝖆𝖗𝖉 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌's ghost having visited just recently, leaving a fine mist of hope and despair surrounding her emaciated form… Why, oh why, did he visit from the nether realm only to fade back away into the distance… She weeps for him, internally, but outwardly she stares blankly, not even realizing the tears are falling, thick droplets staining her already stained dress… She waits 🪦🥀💔 © 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝓴 𝕲𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘 2024