Me And Who - Tumblr Posts
So... You like true crime? ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄
(credit for the original meme poster)
CW: MCD
Soap wouldn't mind being in love with a boy, if it didn't mean he was in love with "The Ghost."
Ghost wouldn't mind being in love with Soap, if it didn't mean he was in love with a boy.
The tension on base was palpable. It was unexpected, unusual, and deeply unsettling. The usually inseparable pair that was Soap and Ghost, were both acting as if they'd gotten into an argument, and their prides were keeping them from discussing it.
The once easy and smooth banter between the Lieutenant and Sergeant was now painfully forced. Like there was some thin line they were dancing across, ever so ungraceful. They were colliding into each other, like stars drawn too close together, and together, they would burn.
It was painfully awkward between the two of them. They were drawn to each other by some force stronger than the laws of the universe. They were still inseparable by physical standards, but they actively avoided interaction despite their constant proximity. Yet, as they both felt their feelings colliding into something bigger, the more they pushed the other away.
The water boiling under the strings of their fate was bound to bubble over at some point. It would drown both of them, lest they acknowledge the ever-growing flame of feelings between them.
Soap always knew that Simon was untouchable. That Simon was so deeply guarded beneath the facade of Ghost that breaking down that concrete wall would shatter something unfixable, be it for better or for worse. Soap thought he'd be fine. That he could avoid the enviable. That he wouldn't fall for the man that was meant to be his soulmate.
It wasn't even that he had a problem with it. He's an open guy and has no problem dating a guy. But Simon. It could've been anyone but Simon, and it would've been fine, great even. Gods how he wishes he could take it all back, go back before he fell, hell, before he met Simon, if only to save him the agony.
Soap wishes he could run away. He wishes he could blindly fall into whatever is festering between him and his Lieutenant. But he knows Ghost won't catch him. Not because he doesn't care, not because he doesn't want to, but because Ghost simply won't accept it. Soap knows the fall is too high, and he'd never survive it. But, he is tetering dangerously over the edge of oblivion, and he can't pull himself back.
Ghost knew he had fallen for Soap the moment he met the bubbly Sergeant, who treated him like he was just another guy. He loved Soap because of how the sergeant looked past his cold exterior and his rank. He loved Soap for being so damn patient with him, even when Ghost would push him away. He loved how easy it was with Soap. How they could bicker and mess around like school kids, how they could talk like they've known each other for forever. He loves how they just click and how they just feel so right.
Ghost would never let Soap closer than a bent arms distance away. Just close enough to mean something, yet just far enough for it to never be enough. Ghost would've claimed Soap as his the second he saw the smaller man if he weren't just that. A man. Had Soap been a girl, Ghost would've poured his heart out, taken the leap of faith, and caught Soap on the way down into bliss. But Ghost couldn't have that. Deep down, something burned into his soul and told him that it was wrong. He had no problem with queer people, but it wasn't him; it couldn't be.
He will never accept the love he has for Soap and it will ruin him. It tears at his heart every time he shoves the sergeant away. His feelings nearly suffocate him when he sees people flirt with Soap. He desperately wants to claim him. Jealousy scorching deep lines into his heart and soul. His gut wrenches, and he feels sick about the whole thing if he allows his mind to linger on it for too long.
Much like glass, too much pressure on the unstable bond they upheld, and they were bound to shatter. It happened days before a mission. Two volatile men, crushed by the weight of feelings bigger than themselves, unable to communicate what they feel.
It's nasty. It's an entirely verbal altercation, but words cut deeper than physical wounds, and words can stick and reopen those wounds at any time. No one dared interfere. The words said were harsh and had an edge of anger that only the hurt could manage. They both burned like bonfires, only fueled off of each other. Their prides were the only thing keeping them from burning out entirely.
They would never be the same. That was the end of them. Two soulmates, names carved into each other's hearts, souls forever intertwined in the destiny of the universe, broken by the will of ill timing. They'd never get to know what they could've been. The amount of joy and exhilaration of loving the one destined for them in every timeline. They wouldn't even know what they had, as small as it might have been, until it was gone.
It wasn't even a few days later when Soap died in action. His heartbreak making him reckless. He never saw Simon again. He died alone, his Lieutenant elsewhere on the battlefield, not wanting to be near the source of his own agony. He died, knowing that their argument was their last real interaction. The torment of that thought alone was enough to kill him. No one would ever know it, but Simon's name was the last word he ever spoke, as his body finally gave out.
Ghost would never recover. They recovered Soap's body, but Simon could never bear the weight of seeing it. He forever blames himself for Soap's death, but he knows there was never anything more for them. Not in this life. The part of Ghost that was Simon died the day Soap did. Ghost would never love. Soap was the only one who could've filled that role, and still Ghost wouldn't have allowed it.
Ghost would die some years later on a mission. His job was his life, and he had thrown himself into it, full force after Soap died. Ghosts body would never be found, but he died with Soap's dogtags pressed against his heart like it would save him.
The things that burn the brightest always go out the quickest. Soap and Ghost were just that. Two stars that burned so brightly they burned out, taking the other with them. They were soulmates. They were lovers. But that was never made for this lifetime. Their happy ending destined to fail along their crash course.
gotta love it when the giant pred licks the smol prey and the prey is just flustered and covered in saliva
i love it
Me and the girls having fun
I went to the small pizzeria in a nearby village last month and asked for a calzone, and when she brought it to me the owner had a look on her face I can only describe as bitter.
Naturally my first assumption was that she was judging me for my food order (maybe calzones are too easy compared to other pizzas and she felt under-challenged as a pizza chef?), but then I looked at my calzone and the more I looked at it, the more I felt like it might have been a failed attempt at a cat calzone.
(I didn't ask for a cat calzone, just a calzone.)
If I had immediately identified it as a cat calzone I would have of course said something about it, such as "Aww that's so cute! You made it in the shape of a cat!! Thank you!" — but it was too late. I hesitated too long, and it was just failed enough that I wasn't sure it was meant to be a cat.
I think this poor woman knew her cat calzone was a failure and I wouldn't be able to recognise her effort for what it was, hence the bitterness in her eyes when she brought it to me.
I asked my friend if my pizza looked like a cat to her, and she said "Are you saying this because of the olives? I think they were just placed randomly."
no, I think they were meant to be eyes, and a cat nose. And those are the ears. Wait, I'll turn it in your direction so you can see
Friend: "It's just a pointy calzone... Maybe you should ask the chef if she meant to make it a cat?"
If I tried to make a cat calzone and the recipient of this gift went like 'hey, sorry, is this weird-looking thing meant to be cat?' I would sell my pizza restaurant and drown myself in the river.
After considering this, my friend said we could brainstorm a better phrasing—but then we ended up agreeing that since the chef didn't go 'haha sorry I tried to make a cat and failed!!' when she brought my pizza, the options were a) she didn't try to make a cat; b) she feels humiliated by her failure, and either way it's better to say nothing.
But I felt deeply curious about this unresolved mystery, so this week when I went back to the pizzeria I asked for a calzone again.
The options were now: a) the chef brings me a better, recognisable cat calzone and I immediately remark upon it and she's happy and we erase the failed cat calzone from the historical record and never mention it ever;
or b) the chef brings me a normal calzone, which suggests that the vague cat shape from last time was accidental and just another instance of chronic cat pareidolia.
(I refused to consider option c) The chef brings me another failed, hardly-recognisable cat. She just doesn't seem like the kind of person who would let that happen to her twice.)
Here's the photo of the failed cat calzone from last time, which, according to my friend, just looks like a pointy calzone with randomly-placed olives and not a deliberate attempt to make a cat:
And here's what the chef brought me this time:
THAT'S A CAT.
I knew it!!!!
And it looks so sad!! This cat calzone looks like it will burst into olive oil tears if you once again fail to identify it as the cat that it is
But I didn't; I was so ready this time. I went "A cat!!!!! It's so cute!" and the chef went like yes!!! I tried to make one last time but it looked weird :(
I said I was pretty sure it was a cat last time and apologised for not bringing it up and she said no, it's my responsibility to make it a decent cat. She also said she was glad I'd come back and ordered another calzone because she was really bothered ("vraiment embêtée") by that first failed attempt, and wondering if I'd noticed an attempt was made (and failed)
That's so relatable. It's like when you make a really embarrassing spelling mistake in a text and you're not sure if the other person has seen it and is judging you for it. Should you bring it up? Can it go unnoticed if you don't? It's the cat calzone equivalent of that. I'm so glad we were able to clear the air.
bitches be like “me and who” and then it’s a woman in passionate embrace with an archetypal being 🤣🤣
I’m still not over the fact that Will and Mike were the only two full-faced persons in the shot when Mike said “I love you” for the first time
Need a girl who I can give all my love to and make her my queen
Just want to sit under a dark bridge with some thirsty blooded girl and bite her lips until the blood comes out and suck it all and sleep cuddling her there
I do sometimes wonder if the human flash tastes exactly like beef