#if nobody likes this i will start reaching out

[ylangelegy]

like real people do ☢️ seungcheol x reader.

little is known about the apocalypse of 2017. a century later, archivists are now unveiling the relics they found from those who lived through that time.

★ seungcheol x reader.  ★ word count: 2.1k ★ genre: alternate universe: apocalypse, alternate universe: soulmates (the only way for your scars to disappear is when your soulmate kisses them goodbye), angst, romance. ★ warnings: major character death. depictions of death/violence, injuries/scars. established relationship; suggestive scenes but no real smut. set in a fictional apocalyptic world. doubling down on the angst warning; i cannot say with any certainty that this is a happy ending. ★ footnotes: this is part of my follower milestone event. viv gave me an inch (a request for angsty seungcheol) and, in turn, i am giving her a mile (a whole thing instead of just a ficlet). mahal kita, @heartepub! this will be the last hozier brainrot i offer you— for now. + much thanks to @gyubakeries and @tusswrites for beta reading! love you both to the end of the world. ❤️‍🩹

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ like real people do by hozier. apocalypse by cigarettes after sex. i know the end by phoebe bridgers. fourth of july by sufjan stevens. interlude: i’m not angry anymore by paramore. atlantis by seafret. end of beginning by djo. nobody’s soldier by hozier.

When the fish started dying, you did not think: This is how the world will end.

Why would you? The decimation of marine mammals and seabirds didn’t make the news. The misguided scientific breakthrough that triggered everything was kept under wraps.

It isn’t until much later, until the damage is irreparable and the Rapture is imminent, that you will realize it. 

The world as you know it is ending— but at least you have Seungcheol.

There’s some cruelty in the timing of it all. The two of you had just moved in with each other, coasting on the honeymoon phase of a long-term couple with a new thing to share. The paint on your apartment’s walls had yet to dry when the government declared a state of national emergency.

Dozens of other countries followed suit not long after, all blaming one thing or the other. Food crises. Social unrest. Cultural collapse. 

“This is crazy,” Seungcheol grumbles. 

The television is playing clips of a hurricane tearing through the Philippines. Extreme weather conditions, the reporters are saying. Due to the rise of CO₂ levels. 

You and Seungcheol are sprawled out on the floor, watching it unfold. The furniture store meant to deliver your couch has delayed shipment until further notice. 

Seungcheol has always been the sulky type, though the expression on his face nowadays has been less of his trademark pout and more of a serious frown. You can feel his growing agitation in the stiff way he holds you, in the set of his eyebrows. 

“It’s crazy,” you agree quietly, resting your hand on his knee in a bid to calm him a bit. “But it’ll pass.” 

Your touch seems to give some sort of reprieve. He rolls his shoulders. He unclenches his jaw. 

“It’ll pass,” he echoes, reaching out to intertwine your fingers. 

Neither of you knew just how wrong you could be. 

April 8, 2017 

Weird times. Cheol knows just how anxious I get when I’m cooped up, so he encouraged me to pick up journaling. I’m not sure how much this will help, but it’s worth a try. 

It’s been a month since everything has essentially gone on ‘lockdown’. The news says that all of this started because researchers wanted to regulate harmful algae. Their genetically engineered virus ended up infecting all algae, and now the majority of phytoplankton are just... dead. 

I don’t know what to write about. Terrible oxygen levels? Seafood costing a fortune? This ‘work from home’ system everyone is trying to figure out? 

I guess I should just write about the good stuff. That way, when I look back on these entries, I can remember something good.

Today, Cheol tried to fix a leaking faucet himself instead of calling for a plumber. We flooded the kitchen floor, and ended up wet from head to toe.

I cooked pasta, called mom and dad on Skype, and watched the latest episode of Santa Clarita Diet. 

Once everything opens up again, Cheol and I have to visit my parents. (And ‘get better screwdrivers’, he claims.) 

When Seungcheol first kissed you, you did not think: This man is my soulmate. 

It had been a clumsy, shy thing, traded way back when the two of you were high schoolers still stealing away from your eagle-eyed parents. Seungcheol liked to wax poetics about how it was perfect even though you know that first kiss was more a clash of teeth than anything. 

You don’t discover the truth of everything until a couple of years into dating. Seungcheol had gotten into playing basketball, and, one evening, you absentmindedly pressed your lips to a scar he had at the bend of his elbow. 

The mark smoothed out instantly. 

Seungcheol had giggled at the development before spending the rest of the night kissing every inch of your skin that he could reach— injured or not. You still think it’s one of your best memories as a couple. 

Kisses that healed scars. You hadn’t believed in the stories yourself until it had happened to you, until you realized how fortunate you were that your soulmate wasn’t halfway across the world or something. No, you had your soulmate, and he was more than willing to kiss away all your wounds. 

You had counted yourself as lucky. You still think you are, even now, as Seungcheol strokes your hair and holds you to his chest in the pitch black darkness of your apartment. 

His voice is quiet and small when he speaks up. “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” you mutter back. 

“I’m sure this isn’t what you imagined,” he says. “For us moving in together and everything.” 

An amused snort escapes you. Of course that would be your boyfriend’s concern. There’s the rotational power outages and the merciless prices of goods due to inflation, but Seungcheol is worried about your expectations not being met. 

You shift in his hold. The days have been getting warmer and warmer, and the evenings are no exception. Seungcheol has taken to sleeping shirtless. You’re a couple of celsius away from doing the same. 

“It’s not your fault that we decided to move in together for the end times,” you say into the skin of his bare chest. 

He gives the small of your back a light thwack. “What have I said about the apocalypse jokes?” he chides lightly. 

You roll your eyes. He shouldn’t see it in the darkness, but he knows you all too well. “And don’t roll your eyes at me!”

His reprimand draws a short laugh from you. Even that feels like a monumental effort, like it's a waste of good air. 

Seungcheol doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the two of you waking up in pools of your own sweat, doesn’t care that there are whole government newscasts on how to preserve oxygen in enclosed spaces. 

He holds you like a lifeline and kisses you until you’re breathless. 

“Cheol,” you whine against his mouth, the protest already at the tip of your tongue. The end is near; sex should be the last thing on your mind. 

But then Seungcheol’s fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, and he sounds so, so sweet when he mumbles, “Yes, soulmate?” 

That’s always gotten to you. 

“Unfair,” you groan as you work on shucking off your own clothes. “You’re so unfair.” 

In between giggles, he kisses every part of you. Again, and again, and again. 

June 15, 2017 

Cheol and I are on the run. 

He keeps telling me not to call it that because it supposedly makes us sound like criminals. I think it’s just funny, and God knows I need something to find humor in. 

As badly as I want to say “we have gone through worse before,” that would be a lie. We’re out of our apartment and trying to make our way to some place where there’s better air quality. In the meantime, we’re living out of his car. It’s so funny to me that I’ve started laughing until I’m crying. 

Anyway, the good stuff: Today’s sunset painted the sky purple. We snagged some still-cold cans of Sprite in an abandoned 7-Eleven. Cheol spotted a family of ducks crossing the road, pointed it out, and said “us, soon!”

Us, soon. It feels dangerous to hope, but that’s all I seem to do nowadays. That and being on the run. (Cheol made me strike out that last part, but whatever.) 

When Seungcheol finally admits to you that he is scared, you did not think: This means that things are much, much worse than I thought. 

Maybe because there were bigger concerns, like the car’s blinking fuel warning light and the scratches littering Seungcheol’s arms. Like the fool that he was, he had gone against your well-meaning advice to not look for help. 

He did not return unscathed. 

Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you rip open a Band-Aid. It’s one of the few that the two of you have left, and Seungcheol seems to remember the fact. He reaches out to stop you. 

“Hey, c’mon,” he urges, obviously trying to aim for levity. “You know there’s other ways we can fix me up, right?”

The frown that tugs at your lips shows that you’re still less-than-pleased at his little stunt. 

“Maybe if you didn’t head out in the first place,” you grumble. “We wouldn’t need any of this.” 

Seungcheol looks like he might push back, but seems to decide against it at the last minute. Instead, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and gives you a gentle tug. 

“It won’t happen again.” His tone is edged with remorse, enough to almost convince you. Almost. 

“No more playing hero?” you ask. 

A corner of his lip twitches upward. “No more playing hero,” he concedes before tugging at you again. 

You let him. You move closer into his space until you’re practically in his lap, until you’ve got a better view of the angry red cuts on his skin. 

Tentatively, you press chaste kisses to the injuries. Seungcheol’s hands find purchase at your waist and he tilts his head back, letting you work your magic. He’s quiet as your lips trace over each gash and wound, as you take away all the hurt with the ghost of a kiss. 

After a moment, he mumbles, “Is it bad that I want you right now?” 

“Seungcheol.” 

“Okay, okay.” A beat. “I want you all the time, actually.” 

“Shut up!”

The sound of his laughter fills the car. It’s enough to have you forgetting his murmured confession of fear, the vulnerability that he had tried so quickly to cover up with affection. For a moment, there is nothing else in the world except this, except you, except him. 

September 23, 2017

Is it weird to say that I’m starting to forget what it was like before all of this happened? Cheol is trying to assure me that it’s to be expected, that we’ll all be back to ‘normal’ soon, but I don’t even remember what normal is like anymore. 

I can’t forget. I don’t want to forget. And so here is a small list of things I took for granted: 

The first breeze that tells you winter is coming 

The kindness of people who don’t know you 

The smallest fish in the sea

Date nights with Cheol 

Clean water 

Breakfast

My parents

Cheol says there might be some biodomes ahead. Oxygen-regulated habitats. It sounds like something only the rich can afford. We don’t have a lot left between the two of us, and it’s getting harder to jump from building to building. 

But there’s something waiting for us on the other side— right? There has to be. 

May the best of my todays be the worst of my tomorrows. 

When the gunshot rang out, you did not think: This is it.

Seungcheol never gave you any reason to think that way. He had held your hand as you raided rundown grocery stores. He had positioned himself in front of you when there were stampedes. The world might have been ending, but he was with you.

He was with you even when the strangers you ran into started getting more aggressive. He was with you even when fights would break out over necessities like water and medicine. 

“People are dangerous when they're desperate,” he’d tell you softly— still his rational, kind self even when faced with the worst of mankind.

He was with you. He was kind. He was yours. 

Even when the bullet lodged itself right between his ribs. 

There is not much that you remember after that. 

The people dispersed. The cause of the fight— a can of chicken noodle soup, once your comfort food— lay forgotten on the floor.

The love of your life, staring unblinking at the sky.

When you sink to the ground, you’re moving purely on instinct. Your quivering lips press over his chest, over the red blossoming and staining his shirt. 

You kiss him. Again.

And again. 

And again. 

December 1, 2017

The kisses don’t work on bullet wounds. 

▸ Archivist’s note: The following entries are undated and some portions had been redacted/deemed untranscribable. We are led to believe that the author struggled to cope in the aftermath of their soulmate’s death. For posterity, we have still reprinted their final entries.

You’re so unfair. 

I still want you. 

Things I took for granted: ███████, you, ███████, youyouyou. 

What now? 

My love, it’s only a matter of ███████—

▸ Archivist’s note: Nothing follows.

This concludes our transcribed logs. The full collection can be viewed at the National Museum of Remembrance.

It is our deepest regret that the author is unnamed and that they cannot be properly credited. However, we know of two things with certainty. 

We know of a man named Seungcheol, and we know that he was loved. 

[luvrodite]

ok wait i need to say something about the dick grayson thought i've been turning over in my head for a bit.

i unfortunately do like readers that are a bit tragic and don't get a happy ending. it's like poking at a bruise idk it's cathartic in its own way. anyway. i know the age difference between dick and jason isn't really that big but i think it's big enough for this to work?

anyway i'm thinking about the relationship you have with dick when he moves out of the manor. you guys fuck, sure, and sometimes you go out, but you're not his girlfriend. not really. it's casual, except it isn't at the same time because dick comes with a plethora of his own issues and for some reason you can't quite fathom, he's decided you're the only one that gets to see that side of him.

you see him like nobody else does. you get the good, the bad and the ugly. you hold him through his nightmares. you brush his hair back from his forehead when he stares at his phone a little too long. you come by when it's been a few weeks and you haven't heard from him.

somehow you kind of end up playing intermediary between him and the kid brother his dad/guardian/mentor/older brother picked up along the way. jason is sweet. and you can tell he longs for a relationship with dick but he's got so much going on. it doesn't matter. jason takes what he can get.

you wonder when you started getting involved in your hookups' lives. but then it feels reductive to call it that. what the two of you have spans beyond that. it's so much more than that. dick touches the lives of all that he meets and you aren't special for it, but you feel it. maybe to the others he knows, in their weird, dysfunctional world, it's normal.

but you're a regular citizen. you go to work. you come home and do the dishes. you cook, you clean, you curse out your landlord when he puts off fixing the heating for the nth time. dysfunctional relationships are alien to you – the weight of all dick gives you, it has to mean something. fuck the forehead kisses, it stopped being casual when he held your hand through a doctor's visit and the fibers in your pillowcase swallowed his tears after a run in with bruce.

you play intermediary. jason sees more and more of you than you think he should, but he doesn't complain. you even grow used to the little bugger. you don't have much in the way of your own family, and he becomes something like the kid brother you never had. you grow used to the inappropriate humour that shocked you the first time it came out of his mouth, blue eyes shining up at you mischievously.

his height gives off the impression he's more youthful than he is and sometimes you end up babying him a little more for it. sometimes, he lets you. you brush a hand over his curls like you do his brother and keep a hand on his shoulder when you go to the corner store. you tell him to pick out whatever he wants, and that it's on you. he looks up at you like you got him the moon when you toss him a copy of his favourite book after a while of not seeing him – yours is all beat up, kid, pretty soon you won't be able to read it anymore.

you don't know how to deal with it when he dies, not long after you and dick break things off.

15. only a baby.

it's violent. you get the news from the papers and the picture of the blast zone makes you stop breathing. dick doesn't pick up the phone – why would he? and you're not even sure if you're allowed to reach out.

the last you'd heard, he'd been pretty cosied up with a new co-worker of some sort. red hair, pretty eyes. more than you'd ever gotten from him. sure, you'd known dick – you knew him. you were the closest he'd ever been to anyone, but it had simply been because there was nothing to lose with you.

you hold his grief, hold his heart in your hands, but you are nobody and you will not ask for more because he sleeps in your bed and sometimes, he holds your hand in public when you're walking through a crowded street. you guys have good days and it's something.

but he’ll is not yours – will never be yours, not fully, not like he belongs to bruce and gotham and the titans and his team. you’re a girl who he comes to because you’re safe.

but his brother dies and he's gone and you're left with not only the heartbreak of losing something never named, but the grief of a real tangible friendship, the death of a brother.

you are nobody and nothing – you're not the one that gets the guy and you are not the one that gets to mourn. you see him at his lowest and love him at his worst but he is not yours, and neither is the little boy that dies much too young, alone and scared.

you fall between the cracks. nobody stops to think about the girl who'd sometimes been mentioned in passing at the dinner table, on the rare occasion dick ventured back home to the manor. how can they? not when bruce is driven near mad with grief, not when dick is god knows where and it's all that alfred pennyworth can do to keep his charge and himself together.

i don't know. i just think about how it takes you months to muster up the energy and courage to visit your friend's grave – because jason was your friend, too. the baby brother you'd never had, a kid you'd felt responsible for, like he was your own. the visit leaves you exhausted and it's of course then, that on your way out, you bump into the second half of your troubles.

dick stares at you like he's seen a ghost and all that happened between you lingers in the air, the weight of it oppressive in the cold winter air. frost in the air, frost clinging to your lashes, heartbreak colouring you blue.

you look at him and think of it – how much you had put up with from him. how dearly you'd loved him. stupid, to catch feelings, but you'd gone ahead and done it. worst of all, he'd known it, too.

there'd been a time, not so long ago, when you would have let him do anything he pleased. lay me down, strike me, hurt me, i will bear it because it is at your hand. and he'd known.

he'd known it was wrong but he was hurting and it’d been easy with you because you didn't ask for more than he’d give but you did hope. and he could see it in your eyes that you hoped he’d give himself wholly over to you but he just wasn't there. perhaps he never would be. and you deserved better but he couldn't let you go. his regret, one amongst many, is that he had not done it sooner. shielded you from more pain at his hand.

once, dick had something of a god to you. now he stands before you and you see him as he is, a mere man. a tired, grief-stricken, man.

the only mercy he grants you now, is to let you walk away.

blank blogs dni. minors dni. have your age in your bio otherwise you will be blocked!

[caldella]

I'm still wondering if Stolas', "When have you ever asked?" to Blitzø's "You mind if I steal?" at the end of Sinsmas was a reference to just the Grimoire, the Grimoire + stuff like the shoplifting, or an indirect, "You've always stolen from the very beginning, and I'm aware if it."

I could also go either direction with him knowing or not at this point. It would be interesting if he'd already figured it out, but also he is very much a Captain Oblivious at times.

My ideal situation would be if Cash tries to pry his way back into Blitzø's life (for money most likely) and brings it up himself. If that conflict happens around Stolas, and Cash figures out this disgraced Goetia is the same kid from back then, he would 100% use that as ammo to try and pry support away from Blitzø. "You stupid bluebood really want to stick up for him? The kid who had to be paid to spend time with you and used that to steal all your shit?" (Yes we know all that was Cash's idea, but still managing to use it against Blitzø feels 100% in character based on everything we've seen of him.) Then it sort of turns into a reversal of Ozzies, where someone has ammo enough to try snd make Blitzø out as a shitty person and embarrass Stolas at the same time, but Stolas sticks up for Blitzø instead. It seems from Sinsmas that Stolas might reach a 'nobody's allowed to give Blitzø shit' mode, as he didn't get snippy with the nightmare customer until she started insulting Blitzø's business.

I am still really hoping that at some point during season 3 Stolas and Blitz get to talk a bit about this day they spent together as kids, like the question of 'Did Stolas eventually realize/come to the conclusion at some point that Paimon quite literally purchased Blitz to be his friend for a day?' still plays on my mind every now and then and I do hope we'll get an definitive answer to that sometime next season, idk man I just really want them to discuss that day again at some point

[milliesfishes]

hi hi hi hi hi !!!! i know you’ve done billy with a clumsy girl, short and tall girl BUT what about billy with a girl who is always sleepy, she’s just always ready for a nap, if she gets cozy, she WILL be falling asleep 😭

-🧸🎀

౨ৎ꣑ৎbilly with his sleepy girl౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid @babydollemsy <3 <3 <3 <3

Billy lowered himself to his knees, setting a gentle hand on your back. Your arms were folded on the table, head resting on them. He couldn't see your eyes, but it was easy to guess that they were closed. "Baby? You okay?"

Slowly, you lifted your head, blinking groggily. "Mhm."

He couldn't help his smile. "You fell asleep again."

Sitting up straighter, you stretched, squeezing your eyes shut and smiling softly. "I tried to wait but then it was so warm in here and we've been out for two whole hours..."

"It's okay, sweetheart," he promised, smoothing a hand over your hair. It was a little messy on one side where you'd been lying down. "You ready to go? I'm all finished up."

"Mkay," you mumbled, blinking sleepily. He wouldn't have dared leave you alone if the saloon wasn't nearly empty and if the bartender wasn't a good friend of his. When a friend had beckoned him to a back room to chat, he'd known there was a chance you'd be passed out when he came back. Had it been a crowded night he would have brought you with him.

One thing Billy had very quickly learned about you was that you had the ability to fall asleep just about anywhere. Whenever you spent the night, you would pass out quickly, especially if the two of you had participated in activities beforehand that left you both bare. But it wasn't just in bed that you would fall asleep in the blink of an eye.

In your favorite flower-filled meadow you'd dozed off in his lap more times than he could count. Even when you were on the same horse sometimes, Billy would feel you start to grow heavier, your body slumping against him. He'd smile and tap your waist when that happened. "Stay with me, honey. Almost there."

When he brought you to the bar with his friends, oftentimes he'd sit you in his lap during a poker game. You liked watching him play, looking at his hand with curious eyes. But if the temperature was just right and you got cozy enough, there were times when you'd rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. Billy was quick to adjust, keeping a hand on your middle and holding you to him so you wouldn't slide off his thigh.

He thought it was adorable, but you found it embarrassing at times. Especially when it would happen in public, you'd whisper to him, "You should have woken me up."

"Nobody thought anything of it," he'd whisper back, kissing your forehead. "You were sleepy. It's okay."

Since you were so prone to sleep, it was far more concerning when you weren't able to.

Billy woke one morning while it was still dark to you sitting up in bed, your knees pressed to your chest. He frowned, rolling over and reaching over to you. "Baby?"

"I can't sleep," you mumbled. He could see how tired you were, your eyes dull. When he thought about it, he couldn't remember you having taken a nap of any kind today, which was unusual.

For a moment he wasn't sure what to do. You'd never had troubles of this sort before, not while he'd been around. Reaching for you, he tried to find a solution. "C'mere, sweet girl. You're okay."

You crawled into his arms, slumping against him with a little "Hm." Billy couldn't help his smile, pressing his mouth to your hair and breathing you in for a moment.

He let his hand trail under your nightdress, flattening his palm on your spine as he spoke softly to you. "D'you remember that day when we counted clouds? 'n you saw one shaped like a heart?"

"Mhm," you mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder. Billy pulled you to sit on top of him, and you snuggled close.

"Think about the clouds, baby." He spoke in what he hoped was a soothing way, still rubbing your back. "Those pretty clouds...you looked so pretty that day."

You smiled into his neck. "Pretty clouds."

"Yeah." Billy could feel you relaxing against him, and he stroked your hair, twisting a soft strand between his fingers. "Oh, my girl...you're so sleepy, huh? You're getting so sleepy."

His words had their intended effect, and you sighed, closing your eyes. Your breathing grew soft, and he never ceased his gentle stroking. When your body gave its telltale signs of sleep, he murmured, "There you go."

Kissing your forehead, he began to let himself drift off too, sure you'd stay in your dreams until morning, the place you loved most.

[silverbeamcreations]

When Duty Summons

A DP x DC fanfic by Silverbeam creations aka lunarmushroom on AO3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

AUTHOR NOTE:

I'm new to tumblr and new to fanfic writing styles, so comments, hearts, theories, ideas etc, are helpful in my motivation to write more, and I super appreciate it. Any tips for how tumblr works and any fandom and writing tips are welcome as well. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy!

‐----------------------

Part 4

"peek a booooo?" murmered Danny quietly as he popped his head through another wall. DAnnys fingers tapped along the wall as he gave the room a look around. empty rusted barrels lay along one wall amidst the dust, trash, and other refuse of the abandoned building. At the obvious lack of life signs danny continued grumbling. 15 minutes into chasing down the summoning spell, all signs had vanished. Once gone he had spent the next couple hours searching the estimated area he guessed was likely a good start and then had expaneded his earch.

score 3 crack heads, 1 elderly homeless man that must have been near deaths door as he seems to sense him even though invisible along with a half dozen rats and vermin and he had come up with squat. Hed taken a break to refocus his approach and refuel. While he made a quick pb and j...a quintiple layer monstrosity for max ghost energy, he couldn't shake the flash of ghost energy he felt before the signal had dissapeared. Such an intense rage, lined with pain and perhaps deep within it a coal of fear, sparking the flames of rage. It nagged at him picking at his core.

He reached over, rolling on his bed to fumble for his phone, sandwich half eaten as he opened a familiar group chat.

Dan da dan man: sooooo little fun fact for today. You know those summoning pings Ive been getting all week? Before they were like nudges but this morning seems like they managed to get the right combo buttons as it almost pulled me in, but I have that important english paper and aint nobody got time for that. So I just said like...No? and it kinda worked except .....

Sam a Lamb sauce: Danny. WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?

Tuck Nugget: Do I need to make popcorn or prep the guns?

Sama a Lamb sauce: You don't have any guns after the last ditch and run Tucker.

Tuck Nugget: Hey baby no one can dis-ARM me of these sexies...

(Attached photo of a blurry bicep)

Dan da dan man: lol Nice one Tuck

Sam a Lamb sauce: Tucker I swear at the ancients if you start another pun war I will mail you some of my new snap dragon flowers to eat all your socks.

Tuck Nugget: Jokes on you, I gave up socks for scandalating ankles in crocs!

Sam a Lamb Sauce: Ignoring that...Danny please continue telling us what trouble you have gotten into now?

Da dan dan man: yeah that... well when I managed to slap the summons away it kinda latched onto another ghost instead?

Tuck nugget: Daaaaannnnnyyyyyy noooo....

Sam a Lamb Sauce: Can we just ignore it please?

Dan da dan man: Its just that, when I chased after it, there was this like cry? It keeps nagging at my core... It was full of intense anger but I think at the base it was covering fear and well...

Sam a lamb sauce: Your obsessions not gonna let that one go...alright what can we do to help?

Tuck Nugget: Once a hero always a hero.

Dan da dan man: well the thing is the signal disapeared and I searched like sooo many blocks full of buildings and while im gonna go back out and search more, I thought a little reearch of the area might speed things up.

Sama a lamb sauce: Deep dive into gotham cults and wacko groups. What fun.

Tuck Nugget: Im sure the Local night bats have quite the library of loony death summoning groups to purview...

Sam a Lamb Sauce: oh no you cannot go hacking the batman computer again. I do not want them on our radar.

Dan da dan man: But... they prbably have the most up to date info then what the general web would have. Im sure it will be fine,Tuckers got 1337 skillz.

Tuck nugger: (thumbs up <3 <3 <3 emoji)

Sam a Lamb Sauce: famous last words.

Dan da dan man: Im gonna head out again see if I can comb a few more blocks.

Tuck nugget: RIP your english grade

Sam a Lamb Sauce: Let's hope it's just his english this time.

[moonbaby6]

Word count: 1631

Warnings: Murphy has a Nun Kink, Swearing, Oral Sex !F receiving, Fingering, Sex, Unprotected Sex(don’t be silly guys) 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Being Murphy MacManus' girlfriend wasn't for the weak. Considering a number of factors including but not limited to: his job murdering terrible men, having to live with him and  his brother, and his kinks. You'd been through several, but this one? You were kinda flabbergasted.

Last night

You and Murphy were watching a movie in the apartment you shared with him and his twin brother, Connor. Connor was out for the night, and Murphy spoke up, "Have ya ever considered doing it ina confessional?" You looked over, chuckling at him, "No Murphy, that's just weird, and wouldn't that be considered disrespectful or some shit?" He chuckled too, "Probably, but think of how hot it would be....especially if you wore a nun's costume." Now at that you started genuinely laughing, "You're joking?" He shook his head, a mischievous grin on his face, "Nah, I'm serious love. Dead serious." You stopped chuckling and stared at him in disbelief, "You're insane, I'm not doing that." "Oh c'mon love it'll be exciting, spice things up a bit, yeah?" You chuckled again and shook your head as he got closer to you, "Please? I promise I'll make it worth your while." You debated for a moment, he looked hot as hell and you couldn't deny that the idea make you excited. You finally sighed, "Fine. Fine, okay. But where the hell are you gonna get a nun costume?" He smirked, "Already got one, I knew I'd convince ya." You shook your head and rolled your eyes playfully as Murphy stood, offering his hand to you. You took it, and the two of you made your way out of the apartment.

Once at the cathedral you quietly walked in, looking around to see that nobody was around. Murphy handed the costume to you, nodding towards the bathroom. You took it and shook your head, still in disbelief that you were really doing it.

You came out of the bathroom, feeling quite stupid but also really excited. The costume was a little slutty considering you were supposed to be a nun; but it was clearly like that on purpose. You found the confessional Murphy was in and entered the small space; he smirked and pulled you close to him. "Damn lady, ya make a sexy nun." You blushed and he leaned down, capturing your lips with his in a sexy, hungry, kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him so that you could clearly feel how excited he was over this whole thing. You put one hand in his hair, and the other held the back of his neck. He groaned into the kiss as your tongue licked his lips. You both opened your mouths and your tongues moved together in time with your lips; exploring each other's mouths.

He put his hands under the short skirt of the costume, gripping your thighs and lifting you up against the wall. You gasped as he pressed himself against you, his hands beginning to wander your body even more. You traced your fingers along the hem of his shirt before lifting it. He broke the kiss long enough to raise his arms and take it off; tossing it aside. You ran your nails down his chest as he took off your shirt too. He wasted no time in unhooking your bra and grabbing your tits. He broke the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses down your neck and chest, sucking your tits while groaning like he enjoyed it more than you did. He pulled back, searching your eyes as he unbuckled his belt. You tugged his neck and crashed your lips back into his. He undid his jeans, shoving them down. You broke the kiss, looking at him and smirking. "Ya like what ya see so far sweetheart?" You nodded, "Duh." He kept his smirk as he said, "You'll like what ya feel even better love." You bit your lip as he reached his hand between your thighs; slipping a finger in the hem of your panties and tracing it before moving them to the side. You gasped lightly, feeling overwhelmed with excitement.

He took his finger and traced your folds, "You're already soaking for me love...." You shivered, watching every move he made. He teased you with his fingers, tracing you then pushing one in slightly before removing it. "Fuck you Murphy, stop teasing me." He smirked, pulling his fingers back up to his mouth to lick whatever of your wetness was on them. "Oh sweetheart, the teasing is just getting started." He moved you from the wall to sit you on the small bench inside the confessional; then he got on his knees. Murphy began kissing his way up your inner thighs, holding them apart as he sucked and nibbled on your skin. "Oh Murph-" You moaned, gripping his shoulders. He slowly worked his way up your core, his breath warm as he hovered over you. "Please Murph..." You were so desperate to feel his warm mouth on you that  you didn't even care if you begged anymore. He smirked, "Anythin' for you love.." 

He slowly and deliberately licked his warm, wet tongue up your needy pussy; taking his time as he looked up at you with his lustful blue eyes. He wanted to watch you squirm at his touch. You tossed your head back and let out a whine as he buried his face deeper between your legs, his nose pressing into your clit as he tongue licked up and down; in and out. "Oh shit Murph~" You mumbled, your hands gripping his hair tightly as you felt the pressure building in your core.  He  took his index finger, slipping it inside you and curling it around to hit your sweet spot. You let out a sigh of pleasure as he slipped a second one in. He worked relentlessly as you tugged his black locks, whimpers and sighs falling from your lips that he found more erotic than anything else he'd ever heard before. Right as you felt yourself about to go over the edge he pulled away, smirking, his face glistening with you. He brought his fingers to his lips, slowing sucking you off of each one, "Ya really thought it'd be that easy? Nah love, you're gonna finish around me." 

He pulled you up from the bench of the confessional, his lips locking on yours in a desperate kiss; you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. He pulled away and turned you around, pushing on your back with just enough force so you'd be bent over; ready for him. You looked over you shoulder at him shoving down his boxers; his erection springing free. He smirked and stepped closer to you. He slid your panties off in an impatient motion before placing one hand on your back, gentling rubbing you up and down as he watched you shiver in nothing but the skirt. His other hand held his cock, rubbing it slowly up and down your slick pussy. 

"Ya ready love?" He asked, locking his eyes on yours. You nodded and he spoke again, "I want ya to keep those pretty eyes on me when I push into ya, yeah?" You shivered and nodded again. He slowly began to push his tip in, pulling it back out to tease you. You whined and he pushed back in slowly as your eyes began to shut and your head fell, "I said eyes on me love." He repeated, beginning to pull back out. You eyes quickly snapped open, locking on his. He smirked, and with one swift motion he completely buried himself inside of you, letting out a deep gutteral moan of his own. Your head fell back down as he gathered your hair in one of his hands; the other gripping your hip tightly. 

He began to slowly move in and out of you as you sighed with pleasure. "Fuck ya feel so good aroun' me." He groaned, his pace quickening as he began to pound into you relentlessly. Your moans grew louder as the sound of slapping skin filled the confessional. He tugged on your hair each time he slammed back into you; "Fuck yer gonna kill me darlin'." He said between breathless moans, feeling his orgasm building up. "Fuckin' come for me love, let go on me." He practically begged, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he licked his hand and found your clit; rubbing in tight circles, chasing your release for you. You gasped in pleasure, pushing your body back onto his with each thrust as you felt the familiar warmth coursing through your body.

"Oh shit Murph- I'm gonna-" Your words were cut short as you let out short, gaspy moans; his own deeply strangled moans mixing with yours as he yanked your hips back, releasing his warmth inside of you. You rode out your orgasms together as he rested his head on your back, gently kissing your back and shoulders. You sighed happily, weak in the knees as he pulled out of you and stood fully; pulling you back into his arms. You turned towards him and he kissed you deeply, his tongue tracing the entirety of your mouth.

"Now that, was hot." He grinned, his blue eyes captivating you as you smiled back. "Yeah, it was. You were right." "Yeah? We'll have to do this again sometime then, huh love?" He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows goofily. You rolled your eyes playfully as you both got dressed, "We'll see." He chuckled before opening the confessional door, letting you step out first. His hand found the small of your back as you exited the cathedral, walking side-by-side back to your apartment.

You knew there'd be plenty more to come in the future, it was never a dull moment with Murphy MacManus.

@ffsjustletmesleep <3

[lover-of-mine]

yours and alli's tommy meta post is so perfect!!

also, he gets invited to the bachelor party and the wedding but instead of calling out and getting sb to cover his shift for him/ making sure he's not on call, he just doesn't. because his job is important and it's one hell of a second (third? can he count the coffee apology meeting as a date?) date if it spans 48ish hours, and it's nice to have the ready-made excuse if he needs to bail that nobody can fault him for. if he gets called out, fine, if he doesn't, he can pretend when his social battery gives out and he wants to leave. it's still too early and too casual to make that kind of commitment and sacrifice coveted pto for, and buck never asked him to either so.

and if he shows up to the wedding at the hospital with soot all over his face still in his turnouts (which, who doesn't love a man in uniform), then maybe that's not the first impression he had intended to make, but he still gets kissed for it and gets to feel like he's part of a big family for a significant life event so he's definitely not complaining.

@buckgettingstruck

No because that's so real, he has a built-in excuse to leave if he wants too, which considering the disaster of their first date no sane person would blame him for wanting, and Buck is not at all bothered by him showing up still in his turnouts, if anything Buck seems a bit too excited he's there at all. It could very much be a point where he starts to believe that once the relationship has run its course and Buck breaks up with him or they reach the mutual conclusion it's not working out and they should just be friends, then he would get to keep everyone else.

I truly believe he didn't want to break up with Buck, especially because I think he wanted the family Buck has more than he wanted Buck, and being the one to break things off, would permanently take the chance to keep that away from him. And he got to experience how intense the firefam can be first hand, who wouldn't want in on that?

And I do think he liked Buck well enough, he just didn't allow himself to fall for the guy because he existed in Eddie's shadow and was fully aware of it and didn't want to risk it. Because he watches Buck and Eddie with the knowledge that Buck is into guys, so in the back of his head there's always the "what if he wakes up someday and realizes he's in love with Eddie? What happens to me then?" and he was protecting himself, and something that is consistent with Tommy is that he will go to lengths to protect himself. It's kinda like being the girlfriend of the guy with a girl best friend. The doubt is always there even if you don't want to admit it or face it head on.

[wormwoodartemisia]

[I needed a wee funny bit and this came to my mind. No real context.][Don't get irritated by the title. There’s only this one part so far]

TF 141 have retired after a mission almost gone too wrong. Together, they now run a farm for holiday guests in a rural part of Scotland. Everyone has found new responsibilities and even their families appreciate this new life.

TF141 (shortest appearance: Price); main focus is on Soap - which is Ghost's fault, somehow...; afab!Reader (who's good at cooking) with relatively short appearance; no other specific description; no use of y/n

Warning: no smut (but maybe something that would count as implied reference to smut?); mentioning of food; no animal was harmed

(About 5.5k words)

(All dividers by firefly-graphics)

(Excerpts from a journey to happiness)

Funny Farm Life

Episode 5:

"Watercress down"

Soap has already been collecting some herbs, edible flowers and watercress in his willow basket by the small stream that's running along close to the main farmhouse building for a while when he decides to take a wee break.

Placing his basket in the grass and getting out of his boots, he picks a nice place to sit by the lazy waters and allow his feet to take an invigorating dip. Leaning back on his elbows, he enjoys the calm chattering of the creek, breathes the fresh air, smiling, and can’t but feel happy about his decision to let his life take this direction. With closed eyes, he bathes in the shy rays of the introvert Scottish sun above him. He could fall asleep like that easily, but there are still some tasks at hand. So after some beautiful minutes, he collects his thoughts and prepares to get up again.

Suddenly he sees it. That small green bit on the foot he had dangling in the stream mere seconds ago. Just above his right toe. A tiny frog staring up at him with a look somewhere between annoyance and admiration.

Soap smiles down at it, carefully lowering his foot again towards the water, but this only has the frog climb up his leg with careful, reluctant steps, making its point. It doesn't want to get wet.

So the Scotsman slowly lifts his leg to place it into the lush grass, his eyes always on the small creature as not to hurt it. Just that the frog keeps resting on him... Soap starts turning his leg to the left, to the right, to no avail. All the animal does is retreating back towards his toes. He leans on his elbows again, lifting his foot high into the air, but the frog remains unphased. Sees no need to jump off and flee...

Then Soap bends his knee and draws it close to menacingly stare at the living green spot. The frog stares back. Can frogs grin? The man rolls onto his left side, stretching his muscular body to its full length, placing his right foot close to a rock. Maybe stone is more to its liking than cool water and high grass? No, it’s not...

"Whit dae yi'll want fae me?", he asks, but the frog only tries to provoke him with a croak, a small, high-pitched sound.

"A'richt, challenge accepted."

With some more rolling, he is on his left knee, hands propped onto the ground, right leg still in the air. Might be that he’s now looking like some male dog marking their territory, but this is not important at the moment. Nobody around anyway. So what?

He's stretching his body again to reach a low bush with his frogged foot, tenderly touching some soft leaves. However, the animal doesn't move. Making itself smaller, cowering on the human skin, its sole reaction. No, wait! It's moving! Yes! Soap can see it reach the tip of his toe - and disappear on the underside of his foot... With a mildly frustrated growl, the Scotsman turns back to sit down in the grass again, taking his foot in hand, carefully turning it towards his face to eye the intruder of his personal sphere.

"Ah will git ye."

Cautiously he reaches out his left hand, trying to invite the frog onto it when suddenly the animal hops away. Short-term relief only. It's on his left lower leg now... Second try. With both his hands formed like cups, Soap does his best to catch the animal in between - just to make it jump again, higher up his thigh, landing onto his knee.

"Dinnae jump up ony higher, ye wee de'il!", he threatens in a low whisper, grinning, although he's perfectly aware that this cheeky beast better not find its way under his kilt.

Slowly the Scotsman gets up, his kilt pressed tightly to his body, and bends his knee back and forth. This leaves the frog totally unimpressed. How come is it sae pernicketie tae git it aff me? The warmth of his skin, maybe... Then Soap feels the little creature move again - with tentative steps into the direction of his popliteal fossa. When he, in order to get a better look, bows down his upper body towards his knees, he suddenly freezes mid-motion.

On his right shin, there's a second frog, wearing a darker shade of muddy green!

"Need tae ca' yer siblings fur support?"

Keeping his kilt secured, he runs his hand through his mohawk thoughtfully.

Tis back tae hee-haw fur me...

Keeping his left leg outstretched so he wouldn't squeeze the one frog in the hollow of his knee, he sits down again, already playing with the thought to simply let the frogs stay where they are. While walking through nature, why shouldn't he walk with nature at the same time?

There's a third frog. Light-green. On his left toe. Maybe this one would behave differently. Perhaps the darker one as well...

Soap starts lifting his legs again, slowly waving them in the mild, friendly air. The frogs stroll to the back of his legs. The first frog jumps off him.

"That's it. 'ere we gang."

So does the third.

"Guid laddie. Or lassie. Or baith."

Then a fourth one lands on him. Or is it the first one, a second time?

Maybe he should try laying back once more, on his stomach perhaps? Perform some more energetic variations of movements? Should thae meddlesome critters settle onto his clothes, he could try to carefully dress down and shake them out tenderly...

Meanwhile, Ghost is staring through the open kitchen window, his freshly brewed tea in hand, watching Soap by the creek. He is more than just mildly fascinated by the fact that the kilt - despite the vast majority of elaborated exercises - has never ridden up any higher than the middle of the Scotsman's thigh. Maybe an ability every Scottish boy was born with...

He takes another sip and since Johnny doesn't seem to be willing to end his excessive stretching in slow motion any time soon, Ghost takes out his smartphone and starts filming this idyllic summoning of all yoga deities.

It's this moment that Kyle enters the kitchen as well, following Ghost's direction of view while preparing a mug of coffee for himself, joining the other man at the counter in front of the window. For some time both men are watching Soap in silence. But Kyle is curious.

"What's our Highland fling doing over there?"

Ghost lets out a non-committal noise and his answer doesn't even sound half a question. "Honouring the national animal?"

Kyle takes a thoughtful sip, then nods slowly. "Sounds 'bout right." Another moment of comfortable silence. Then: "For how long's he been doing this?" - "Past 20 minutes or so." - "Huh. What you think. How long will he keep going?"

Never only for a second does Ghost put down his phone but goes on filming. Johnny's movements are hypnotising. "Forever, perhaps... 's got a course at 0300, though." - "That Nature Walk something, right?" Ghost hums an unspecific grunt as answer.

"If need be", Kyle offers, "I could take over. I'll be at the meeting point. Either Soap shows up or not." - "Cheers, mate."

Soap's next exertion has both men simultanously tilt their head to the left for almost 90 degrees. Kyle's brows couldn't go up any higher. "How does he manage to-" - "No bloody clue."

When Soap enters the kitchen later with his basket fully loaded of green delicacies and his mohawk an attractive, ruffled mess, Ghost looks up from his laptop. The Scotsman is mumbling some incomprehensible Gaelic tirades before he finally notices Ghost at the table. "We really need tae pay attention tae those clingy frogs. They be like glued tae one's skin, ye ken?"

Ghost doesn't even blink. "Sure, Johnny."

But the other man has already grabbed a box of crackers plus cottage cheese and is on his way out again. Most likely to meet his Nature Walk group. At least Ghost hopes so. Then he goes back to work on his own project once more.

The dining table is fully set when Soap comes to join Ghost and Kyle, who had both taken the responsibility for preparing dinner tonight. The Scotsman looks slightly puzzled, blinks and lets himself fall onto the next chair, fully ignoring all the tasty food laid out before him. "Fer some people, th' guid land air seems tae be too much, ah s'ppose."

Ghost and Kyle look at each other.

Soap leans forward, placing his arm along the edge of the table. He seems about ready to let the two others in on some secret.

"The sisters from Birmingham, ye ken, Mallory and Valerie? Was on my way tae bring the rest of my greens, those ah didn’t need on our Nature Walk, intae the cold storage, but Mallory and Valerie came out of nowhere and wouldnae let me enter. Going like 'We had no clue, ye should hae said something. Sign us up!' Ah told them tae just show up tomorrow fer the next Walk, just like they actually did yesterday as well, but they were 'Nah, yer yoga lessons!' Meanwhile Adeline and her daughters had arrived as well, together with the twins from Stratford. Na idea where they a' suddenly came from... Wanted tae know if they had tae wear skirts or if this was up tae themselves tae decide. Nora started a discussion about mini or maxi skirts, the advantages and disadvantages of flowing or heavier materials -"

Ghost taps a few times onto the display of his smartphone before wordlessly showing the screen for Kyle to take a look -

at the homepage for their farm. At the headline plus a video showing Soap's waterside exercises. Kyle's eyes go wide and he has to press a hand over his mouth as not to laugh out loud.

'Kilted Me - Rural Countryside Yoga-Experience'

Both men are staring at the screen now, at Ghost's muted video (where the Scotsman's skin is glistening in the mild rays of light, the colour of his tanned skin the perfect contrast to all the shades of green framing him, highlighting him as the one attraction to stare at, Mother Nature's gift to those who want to see, his movements flowing with the motion of the lush grass beneath him) and at the significant amount of likes and comments below the video clip constantly going up.

Kyle whispers "Damn good quality, mate. Looks professional even. The way you cut it too." while Johnny keeps wondering, lost in his memories, gesticulating with one hand.

"- before Lucy asked no-one in particular, although it was me she looked dead in the eyes, if anyone minded her doing sports without bra. Tha was the moment Dana asked whether it would be ok tae keep at least a tank top on or whether tha would limit the full experience the countryside could offer. And Valerie wanted tae know whether ah would still feel comfortable at all with dressed ladies around in this intimate situation we would share -"

Kyle leans closer to Ghost: "When did he take off his shirt?" - "Not long after you'd left."

"- like overcoming dictations of society and liberating yer inner goddess or some such... So when Paula asked fer the specific schedule - because it was nowhere tae be found as all of them claimed - ah told them nothin has been scheduled yet, tha we were workin on the issue, though ah have na idea what's goin on - but tha was the only way tae get rid of them..."

He blinks twice before leaning his chin into the palm of his hand, looking, somehow utterly lost, at Ghost and Kyle alike, as if they might be willing to offer an answer he knew they couldn't give...

"Well," Kyle tries a start, at the same time with Ghost: "Johnny."

That's all they can manage.

On passing, John Price sticks his head into the kitchen. "Simon, the missus would like to have a word with you before dinner. Regarding marketing strategies and video placements, I think. I didn’t know you were into that. Better not keep her waiting."

The door to her office is open so Ghost enters without knocking. She doesn't look up from her papers but there's something about her that tells him she's aware of his presence. Her finally lifting her head is his invitation to sit down opposite her, her huge desk only creating a distance between two people who would not be close to each other.

"For how long has this been on?"

No introduction at all. No need between the two of them. He knows the question is rhetorical.

She goes on. "Not even two hours. But there's quite a resonance. Have you got any idea what you've done?"

Sure he has. Dramatically underestimated the way people are willing to go unhinged in the seemingly impersonal spheres of the internet - or when being directly confronted with Johnny's barely covered body...

"Miscalculated Johnny's appeal."

She's grinning now as her eyes land back on the huge screen of her computer. Then her eyebrows draw together and she brings her face closer to what can be seen there right now. "Absolutely... Incredible...how his hair is shining in the sunlight... I really need to ask him about his shampoo... "

Bloody hell. I should have known. Should have posted it in the group chat only...

"Have you read the comments, Simon?"

"Not all of them yet."

"No problem. I've just listed some of my favourites. Of course the gifs are frozen on paper, but you'll get it." She hands him a printed page.

HannaSmith86: "Your Kilted Me can come over and revitalise my Wilted Me!🚿🚿🚿"

-‐---------------‐----------------

cherryfalls: "Some utterly handsome piece of Scotland!🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🦄"

-‐---------------‐----------------

DannyBoy: "Be brave, my heart... 💗💓💝"

-‐---------------‐----------------

MaggieMac:

"This better not awaken anything in me! 😳🤯😏"

-‐---------------‐----------------

butt'a'cup69: "could need some good stretching too🥴"

-‐---------------‐----------------

ananymous: "how i would let this scottish unicorn #€%* me with his #€%* before #€%* him #€%*

-‐---------------‐----------------

Judyssister: "Would love to see his more rural parts💋"

-‐---------------‐----------------

MoanaLisa: "➡️shortygo: most important question: the english riding coat or raw? 🥵😻😽😈

-‐---------------‐----------------

WellKnownAnonymous: "oh praise the highlands but don't forget his lowlands"

-‐---------------‐----------------

anonymous: "mmmmmoist 🥵💦"

-‐---------------‐----------------

ham'n'eggs: "Never thought I was a nature guy, but..."

-‐---------------‐----------------

greenlady: "Cernunnos, where are your antlers?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

jingleprincess: "The way you move your body is just so...so...

(gif by retardell)"

-‐---------------‐----------------

Knittin'Kittin78: "... nothing more attractive than a man being one with nature..."

-‐---------------‐----------------

sophisticatedlullaby: "Oh, foraging for ages..."

-‐---------------‐----------------

LuMarsh05: "Where can i book the course? Here i come! 🤤😏"

-‐---------------‐----------------

Some comments are new to him. Will it be necessary to delete the more explicit ones? he wonders briefly on shoving the sheet of paper back to her.

"Harmless fun. As quick as people are about to write stuff, they'll forget about it too. Nothing that should have any negative impact on our business. Quite the opposite. We need to show Soap. Might boost his ego."

"Oh, I'm not worried about Soap's ego. And you're right about these commenters. However, those are the ones that will spread the news, link us and make your video known even long after their original post. Soap would have enough to do if each of these posts reached only two potential guests.

And then there are those comments that would imply some actual interest in coming to us."

She has already prepared a second page that lands in front of him.

PeggyShawŒ: "is this private lessons or would i have to share kilted me 😉"

-‐---------------‐----------------

wormwoodartemisia: "👍Where can I sign up?!"

-‐---------------‐----------------

ShortyGo: "Timetable? Availability? Pricelist?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

kellylarson7/2000: "OMG!!!! I've just booked my stay!!!!"

-‐---------------‐----------------

Yogafreak1999: "Is there a list to sign in for the course? I couldn't find one... 😔"

-‐---------------‐----------------

BerlinerYogarolle: "Does it have to be a kilt or would a skirt do?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

GreenWanderer: "Can we book the course as a group?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

underamoonlitsky: "Hey! This looks so peaceful and relaxing. Is prior knowledge necessary for participation at your yoga course?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

1KnowingMeKnowingYou1: "How interesting! What positive effects do the exercises have on the body?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

alexnichollspublicrelationsmanagement: "Hello, dear 141-Farmers! Sorry if I overlooked that info but I couldn't find anything: What exactly would be the schedule? One hour on several days, several hours on one day or even intense seminars for a weekend or even for one whole week? I'm very interested in a weekend course or a week for a group of about 25. Have a nice day"

-‐---------------‐----------------

RachelWalsh: "Same question as PeggyShawŒ! Also: is it mixed groups?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

DamianBlack: "Is the yoga experience included in all the bookings? There is no schedule/price list shown on your page!"

-‐---------------‐----------------

cookieslover: "He's real, isn't he? If I book a stay, he'll be there, right?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

MasonJar: "Do I have to book a stay or can the yoga seminar be attended separately?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

Diana118: "The yoga experience would not be cancelled in case it rained, would it? I would definitely yoga with him in the rain! Whether group or one-to-one lessons doesn't matter. (I would prefer one-to-one!)"

He looks up at her. A statement: "You haven't told the old man."

"That's correct. Not before clarifying with you, of course. What would I fuss about to him? Especially with you supporting me the way you do."

"The way I do being what?" He knows what she has in mind, but he needs her to say it.

She leans back in her office chair, a smug smile on her lips as she purses them at the same time, lifting one eyebrow. "You know it, Simon."

"Use your words, love. That's always been the deal with me."

"Convince Soap to host your 'Kilted Me'-yoga course. You might not have had anything like this in mind, but there's a lot of money to make with."

For some time, they're staring at each other in silence. He could probably talk Johnny into this idea, but would Johnny really enjoy such lessons or merely do Simon a favour? He'd find out and take the responsibility in case Soap would dislike the idea. This joke was on him.

"What if MacTavish prefers to keep his sporty side to himself?"

"Choices have consequences, honey. The 'Kilted' is part of the title. If it's not Soap, then I'll put you in a kilt and have you show your sporty side."

"I'm almost tempted to let you try that, sweet'eart."

"Who said anything about trying?"

With a wicked grin he lets her believe that she might have won. "The people went crazy about Johnny's charme. Not me to compete with that."

"Don't underestimate the attraction that comes with a pair of strong, nice, long legs and a kilt, handsome."

"Nothing too appealing about some pale bloke who probably couldn't stop a kilt from riding up over his hips."

"Then you should be very careful, Simon. A traditional Scotsman doesn't wear anything beneath his squared piece of cloth - but neither does a ghost, eh?"

He slowly tilts his head so that the gesture almost looks like a bow that would not reach the rest of his body.

If it wasn't for the dark gleam in his burning eyes, she would dare to believe he gave in to her.

Then he's on his way out.

She calls after him. "Great camera work, by the way."

"Could just as well have been Garrick's video, you know?" - "Nah. Kyle's camera would have caught Soap differently - including more nature to the rural experience instead of adding more of Johnny's nature to the countryside."

She might have a point...

When Ghost returns to their dining table, you have already set the hot, steaming pie everybody loves so much in the middle of the table and taken a seat between Soap and Gaz. Though you are paying attention to what Soap is telling you, you can’t help but notice the quick look Simon and Kyle exchange. It feels as if they've just had a whole, unspoken conversation within one heartbeat.

"...wis pure surprised, fur a've ne'er seen any frogs aroond afore, especially nae four at th' identical time climbing me. Hae ye?"

You and Kyle shake your head in unison.

Then Kyle, seemingly holding back a laugh, turns to Ghost: "Soap has just informed us about a wild bunch of frogs making the area unsafe for those getting too close to the creek. Any experiences or thoughts of yours to share, Simon?"

"About croak and dagger agents? Well, seeing Johnny in their territory might have let them jump to the wrong conclusions... Maybe they thought he'd like to play some Hop-Scotch."

"Gey funny. Easy tae say fur ye! Ye dinnae ken whit ah hud tae dae tae git rid o' thaim! Ye hae na idea!"

"I'm in the picture, Johnny, believe me." While fetching his smartphone out of his pocket, he mumbles "Everybody is." before handing it to Soap, the screen showing again the latest add-on to their homepage.

From the very moment Soap catches sight of the title, he falls very silent.

With each passing second during which the Scotsman is watching into what his droll frog encounter has been transformed, you can see how all the strange pieces of his conversation with their guests fall into place. Each tiny progress of understanding is written on his face.

It's a clip of six minutes. Underlaid with not only the soft sound of a happily flowing creek, but also with a solemn, instrumental piece of a yearning bagpipe, accompanying its compatriot as if the two of them were made for each other.

For Simon, it's six minutes of growing, palpable noiselessness - which have started a dizzy ringing in his head after the first minute -because Soap refuses to say anything.

Then, as soon as he's through, he goes back to different moments, lifts the screen closer to his eyes, zooms in now and then, reading as well. Still keeping mum.

It's nerve-wrecking. Right now, Ghost would rather be... targeted by a sniper, maybe? Well, actually, that is exactly what's going to happen...

He cannot disappoint Johnny...

Finally. Finally looking up, Soap decides to address his former superior.

""Oh, to be countryside under this man and all around…"?! Christ. This is serious, Simon. Filming me wi'oot mah consent 'n' putting it oan th' homepage wi'oot asking allowed…"

Johnny is right. There’s a sudden pain in Simon's stomach that comes with the realisation of the impact his joke? prank? whatsoever actually has. How did this fuckin stupid idea of putting the clip on their page even come to his mind? It's true that Soap has already posted a variety of fitness videos but of course that doesn't mean he could decide over the Scotsman's head... There must be something about retirement and the permanent close private proximity with his former teammates that actually fucks up his brains... or maybe he could blame the Scotsman's shampoo? Anyway, he will have to find a way to make it up to his friend...

"Listen, Johnny, I'm sorry. I'll take the video off and make sure it'll disappear-"

Soap doesn't blink. His tone is distinctively serious. "That wilnae dae." Suddenly, his stern expression is taken over by a bright, wolfish grin. "This bloody video looks pure dead brilliant. So muckle better than a' the ones ah took o' myself! Ye can even see they frogs if ye take a really close keek! However, choices hae consequences, LT." Second time within 30min to get to hear this... "From noo on, ye will take on tae filming me whenever ah'm feelin th' need. Ahh, ye'r sae guid at this. Should hae kent earlier."

If he notices, then Soap doesn't comment on the sheer relief springing to life in the gaze Simon has fixed on Johnny.

"Plus: ah wasn't aware that doing gymnastics in a kilt would add sic pure tough dynamics tae every exercise... We'll hae tae explore this further."

Doesn't sound too much like a punishment for now...

"Additionally, just for the records: Ah think mah freish shampoo does mak' a difference."

You watched the video together with Soap and followed Soap an Simon's talk afterwards without getting involved, just like Kyle. Now you are checking the clip again as well as the comments on your own smartphone.

"He's right. You can actually see something on his leg here. Look!", you remark and show Kyle while Johnny and Simon go on discussing the way the video is designed. Kyle nodds. "True. Though I doubt that anyone else would notice without being told." Then his eyes land on the amount of comments - a drastical increase since Ghost last showed him. This post is definitely the most successful one on the homepage - by far.

"I've got the feeling that this might have some relevant consequences for our business," Kyle whispers to you. On his own smartphone, he's just checked the stats regarding the bookings - only to find that their number has been going up proportionally to the comments and likes on Soap's yoga clip.

You're impressed with the chart he's showing you. "We should really celebrate this. What do you think? A nice, cosy private dinner party? All of you've been working so much. You could need that," you point out.

"Lovely idea. Definitely have to get some dishes that match the occasion." - "Yes, it needs to be typically Soap... Something classically Scottish." Both of you start thinking.

"Not to forget the frogs," Kyle states and a wide, satisfied grin appears on his face. "I remember your fantastic Cock-a-leekie soup. Now what about some Frog-a-creekie? Maybe based on some smoked fish and a pistou made of watercress? Added on top, this would remind of a green frog." You love his idea and don't have any doubt that he'll support you with figuring out how to best combine all possible ingredients. You flash him a bright smile. The two of you share the same enthusiasm when it comes to forming ideas and trying them out. He's a main reason why it's so easy for you to feel home here. You feel that you are cherished. He simply makes you feel part of the family. As if it was the easiest thing to do...

How come these folks always manage to move you so much? It is overwhelming and you're not sure you'll ever get used to this. You swallow.

"Sounds great," you tell him. "I'll prepare a list later."

The distraction is welcome: Now Simon's voice catches your interest so that your attention shifts to him.

"-comments are surprisingly explicit. I guess some of them will stay in my mind."

You feel the need to share your personal best of. "Yes, it’s hard to believe what messages people leave on the homepage of a holistic, traditional farm that's open for guests and families. Let me quote AnneWarburton: 'I must never be allowed to frolic around this guy near the creek. He'd make me make the water wetter!' I mean, is this her actual name?"

Because you feel comfortable with each other, all of you can have a relaxed laugh in the cosy atmosphere.

Ghost's video has created an interesting topic of conversation with the reactions of the commenters.

Despite the smug grins Soap can’t help on reading some of the more forward comments, there's one post that stands out. Though this one could probably be understood as corny by some people. However, it reaches deeper into his soul, because it touches a place there that extends far beyond the reference to sheer physical attraction.

Nicneven 🌐💧🌬: "This personification, this pure embodiment of all forces of nature… Such sensuality… The fresh breathing green, the golden light shattering into diamonds on his skin, the creek praising their bond in countless tears of joy… This unity of nature and man. This is life."

It fuels his energies. He's already read it thrice - but he won't tell the others. Will name a different post. Lets the others tell their choices first.

Gaz is next. "The 'Wilted Me' clearly left an impression. But all I really have to know is 'mmmmoist'."

Soap looks at Ghost expectantly. Of course he gets the hint. "S'ppose," Simon points at the specific post, "'the English riding coat' is my favourite so far. Reduced to essential, basic needs. With historical awareness to a significant degree of situational irony. Unambigously pointing out their clear preference. It's almost poetic in its own bluntness."

Impressive.

Now all eyes are on him for a moment. Silence.

Then Johnny pats Ghost's shoulder compassionately. "Ah kin cop it too."

"English, MacTavish."

"Sorry, sir. Let me remind you: We're in bonnie scotland noo."

"Much better here than I assumed, I have to admit," Simon's voice has got a soft undertone you wouldn't hear too often.

All of you are so much more comfortable than you ever expected to be, given all the circumstances. You take in the three men who share so much more memories than you'll ever know - but who are also willing to make new ones, together with you as well. This is a gift you traesure. So do they.

"Would also love to hear what the frogs got to say to our nature boy...", Kyle wonders.

"Ach, ah can tell. Loves me dearly, every single one. But 'course they wilnae leave any comments. We're neighbours - they'd be recognisable far tae easily!"

"So many fans, right?", you tease playfully.

"Aye! Just th' missus might be a bawherr pure upset, eh, Simon? Bet she's got bonny muckle work at hands noo cheers tae you."

Ghost purses his lips. "Think she's a real fan of yours too, Johnny. 's got a printed list of her favourite comments. Two pages so far."

"Sure. She adores me! Tough lassie. Will mak' ye pay", Soap points at the video, "for yer moment o' weakness, ah bet."

Moment of clarity...

Simon grimaces in mock distress.

"Totally obsessed with that yoga-idea, she is, and will have the lessons held - one way or the other."

The Scotsman eyes him with interest. "Maybe ye'r just th' richt man fer that. Could dae ye some guid tae get connected wi' th' scots land, emotionally 'n' physically. Sweet, rich grass is th' softest mat fer yer skin."

"You like lolling in the grass, Johnny? Then why not make a course out of it yourself?"

"That micht suit ye. Ye juist wantae pull yer ain heid oot o' th' noose. At least hae th' decency tae ask me properly."

Simon exhales deeply, grabs a cherry tomato and drops to his knee, offering the amazed Scotsman the small red fruit as if his life depended on it: "Johnny, will you do me the honour of hosting the 'Kilted Me"-yoga lessons?"

Must be the tomato that seals the deal. His friend accepts. "Aye, ah will. Juist a bawherr wiggle wi' mah bahookie? Ah can dae that."

You laugh in amusement. "You think that's all yoga is about? There's more to it than just wiggling your bum!"

"Thir's aye mair tae it whin ah wiggle wi' mah bahookie, bonnie!" The way he raises his eyebrows can only be described as lascivious. The way he chews his cherry tomato too...

You sigh exaggeratedly, faux-scolding: "That's exactly what I fear... Soon this farm will have a reputation for 'adult sports' only..."

He waves it off with a grin. "Dogs that bark dinnae bite. None o' they frivolous commenters will actually caw up 'ere. 'n' if thay dae, we'll be able tae deal wi' it.

Ah bet they'd be less clingy than my handful o' frogs. Speaking if frogs. We should call the course by its name. Tha would be 'Frog Gymnastics', more correctly." Soap winks at you, grabs a big slice of your pie and turns to go to take the phone call he mentioned during breakfast.

Kyle shouts after him, grinning: "You can’t guarantee the frogs! Additionally, 'Frog Gymnastics' would definitely sell worse than 'Rural Countryside Yoga Experience'!"

Sitting back on his chair, Ghost shrugs. "I guess, as long as our bonnie lad hosts the course together with his kilt, the deal could probably even be 'Welcome to the wetland! Meet the Leech'."

[real-minnesota-state]

I'm feeling sleepy so let me tell you a story.

Let me tell you about fairies.

There are 3 rules:

1: NEVER, and i mean NEVER, go out without a way home. If you don't pay attention to the trail, it will change. Don't go to the lights in the wood, they are not home. Keep the track home and tred lightly.

2: always ask their names. Never ask for favours. I learned this when I was young, first with spirits and then the fae. They give away blessings to those that ask for them. You must be corteous- say hello, say goodnight. Ask their name and their story. If they tell it, do not leave before they finish.

3: never leave the connection open. If you open a gate, shut it. If you greet them, say goodbye. If you ask, you must thank, and if they give a name you must return one. If you break a fairy circle, fix it with plucked dandelions and inkcaps before they can find you. Flower crowns left on branches make good gifts, and so do leftover local fruit. Pick up litter, but leave something natural to replace it.

After the rules, there comes simple things you need to know. The fairies in my town liked inkcaps the best. I grew up in a Minnesota town full of cliffs, wood, and running water. The places fae love and hate. Always greet the shadow figures- they are not fae, but they are friends. If you have other people around, don't say a word. Just because you can see them doesn't mean the others can.

The fae are for more human in this day. They aren't monsters anymore. They are the deer hunters with leather gloves separating them from the iron. They are the children with missing fingers from old mousetraps. They are the little boys sitting in rings of dandelions with too many teeth missing. They are not monstrous, do not treat them as such.

Some will call them unholy. Their mirrors break. Some mock the spirits- I saw the burns from his possession. Some hurt those the fae like, and the dandelions wilt a bit faster in their hands. I see them the most in November and March- the footsteps without start or end, the boots without a brand on the bottom. They like the snowbanks that are melting. The fae can feel the mushrooms beneath.

You do not insult the fae. A Fairy tree is a fairy tree, and I grew up with plenty. Now that I think about it, I met many fae. Most taught me songs while we sat in fairy trees. I learned things nobody else knew, and I learned songs before they came out. My mother called me a fairy, once. The church kicked her out a few months later. She resorted to calling me a devil instead.

One of the girls I met never gave me her name. I just called her evelyn. She taught me a nursery rhyme, one by her name. Her hair was in red ringlets. I told her my name, and she left after we found mushrooms beneath the slide. I got rid of those mushrooms. At the same park, I met many people. There was a vine that everyone used as a swing under one of the mulberry trees, and I never fell off. I used to climb up to a place only i could reach and swing- ironically, I was the shortest. Those kids didn't believe in fairies. They took more than they needed. Those ones forgot my name quickly. I think the fae were helping me get away.

Another time we were at the local school. Walking distance, far from anything related to spirits. You were more likely to find wasps than anything else. Someone else saw it first- a silhouette with glowing orange eyes. I called it out and waved. When the shadow shifted, everyone decided to leave. It rained before we could reach the mulberry swing, and I saw two more.

There was a fairy tree in my grandparents backyard. It connected my grandmother's garden and the birdbaths. I would always go through the tunnel it formed, but never saw anyone despite her garden leading directly into the street. I learned to stop going that way quickly, but i leave snacks there for the fae sometimes.

My town was haunted, but we could accept that. The fae were a dirty secret nobody could admit. Why, the fairy trees were just bad lawnwork! Not like the last person to try cutting it down broke his leg. They left everything so open and yet so dull. To an untrained eye, it was only a birdbox in the woods. To me, it was a closed fairy door.(You could see the iron nails and the horshoe charm on it.) To you, it was nothing special. To us, it was a gate we needed to close behind us.

There was many paths behind my school. We spent hours exploring them- but it was only thirty minutes, even though it had changed so much. The doorways changed how time worked. Fairy doorways always take something from you, and you need to go back through them in order to get it back. I never found a four-leaf clover in my life, but i still scoured it even before i knew they were lucky. Even before i knew clover revealed the fairies.

The snow melts slower where the fairies step. If you follow, they teach you how to balance. They teach you how to make your steps small and fast and delicate. They teach you how to make flower crowns and how to pick the wild strawberries. The fae teach you everything you taught them.

Don't get in their bad favours. Always wave back, and smile at the reflections. They love you. That doesn't mean they won't dish out consequences.

[boguspearl]

So I have been seeing alot of posts about people talking about how the cousre of events went in powders universe, and so I decided to do my own because I just flat out don't agree with most of them.

Alot of posts are saying that Vi's death had no real consequence to forming the peace that was present in the world, and that it was because Silco and Vander had become friends again and I think this really wasn't the case.

While yes Silco finding Vanders letter and then making things right, may have been a leading factor to the peace it was ultimately Vi's death

Well this act was so terribly horrific that nobody could ignore it

You see Silco and Vander being friends might have started the ball on peace but it clearly wasn't at that point otherwise Vi and the others would never have been robbing jayce's apartment in the first place, but when the crystals fell and exploded which killed Vi, the brutal death of a child in that explosion, while other children cried over her dead body.

Because if we remember correctly during the first season Jayce was on trial for Hextech being unsanctioned and potentially dangerous, it was only due to a select few people thinking he could actually do it that being Viktor and Mel, being the reason he could continue, however there was no way that he would have prevented himself from being banished then. No Hextech means no Hextech related problems like Ambesa and Viktor.

This is where Silco and Vander being friends come into play, together as a united voice after a citezen of zaun was killed, circumstances or no, there was no way the council could silence them, this might have lead to numerous discussions on why children would have had to steal and also to prevent all out war of outragged people, it was only obvious the council would have reached the conclusion of peace.

[v4vile-a]

pls pls PLS people. for the life of me, i have zero time to be on the dash right now but i miss chris so bad. give this a ❤️ if u consent to swapping discord tags & developing/writing on there.

[oceanwithouthermoon]

imo everyone who insists that saikis life was perfect and he was a spoiled brat complaining about nothing are just purposefully ignoring and misinterpreting the whole manga simply because they like other characters better and want to make up scenarios to make their fav seem like a precious little victim in every situation

its hard to explain but i see it happen a lot with specifically people who have dedicated accounts for other characters and constantly misattribute every issue to "saikis such a baby, my character has it way worse!" "saiki hurt my babys feelings once so i hate him!" "saikis such a spoiled brat, my baby has a way shittier life and never complains about it!" "saiki hurt my poor precious fav once so hes an abusive monster!"

and said "shittier life" that they "never complain" about is either the persons headcanons (literally made up) or... the character DOES complain about it and the person takes those words at FACE VALUE but ignores everything else, including things that actually HAPPEN right in front of our eyes

[yourflame]

Best thing I ever did to combat rp insecurities: stopped giving a fuck

[koko2unite]

[starfilledsky2810]

damn I yap a lot

tldr; im alive, sadly im still on hiatus, other stuff is fine now I just have new [physical] problems, you'll know when I'm fully back (give it another couple months) and comfortable, I'm in a [technically well-over] 3-month long ongoing depressive episode [not tryna do trauma olympics or make anyone feel bad btw it's all chill]

so sorry if I've left you hanging [with art or smth], I'll get to it in time, I promise [I may have unwillingly forgotten, likely not but there's a chance]

Hey, I'm alive, I have been for the.. almost 6 months I've been gone. Holy shit, I didn't even realise that it's been that long. I figured I should at least say something in case anyone is worried or wondering even though everything isn't solved yet, so, here. [under the read more so it's not flooding or anything]

Also, I figure I should apologise for venting on main and just leaving it up - this is all going to stay up because I need to keep it somewhere to aid with my memory issues - but, still, must've been a little weird

Absolutely not a good time to say all this [for me bc I haven't thought this message through] but I'm kinda half-back, just on hiatus from socials due to declining physical health. Really badly declining, I need help honestly

Originally, as you know, I was gone because I had a really bad fall out with my mother, but things pertaining to that have been solved now [except me not feeling 100% safe and trusting to my mother, that will never change. She's tried hard, I just wish I could find her reliable emotionally as well]. It's just that, since then, basically, all these physical problems that I don't understand have been royally fucking me up and messing with my mental too. It's messed with everything I love. I don't know what to do anymore.

Oh wait, where I was actually going with this, so

OK nvm I forgot but you'll see me around bc I've been talking to certain people trying to pretend like nothing's happened and I've made the kinda-silly decision to not fully come off hiatus or talk to other certain people before I'm okay again.

[tunacocina]

i really dont miss qsmpblr during purgatory. i dont. but theres something to be said for that unique high of posting an okay-ish shitpost after avoiding posting about discourse all day while three of your mutuals get in a vagueposting war and two people unfollow you for some character interpretation. and also at the same time gaining followers for continuing the yuriposting grind through it all. like that was such an energizing feeling. i would not go back but i do hold a special place in my heart for it in a trainwreck way. but theres a reason why qtinya is privated now. some things can be left to rest...🙏