When repression doesn't work, you can always try screaming
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something happening on a mission, something personal that has soap spiralling; panic and rage making him reckless, thoughtless, and ghost has to draw the line
“you’re compromised johnny; you know what that means?”
“you’re not pulling me out,” soap immediately snarls. he turns on him and ghost barely recognises him; venomous fear turning his eyes to unyielding ice. "you're not sidelining me; i need to be in this-!"
but ghost has never been afraid of venom; spat or dripped straight from bared fangs.
he snakes out a hand grip the back of his neck, jerking him in a rough shake. "if you can't think, you can't be a soldier," he growls and he flinches like he's been struck.
his lips quiver as they twist in a sneer and he wrenches, trying to free himself of his hold.
ghost doesn't let him.
"it means you give your body to me because your head ain't fucking attached to it anymore."
soap stills, body trembling beneath his hand as he sucks in shaking breaths.
he tightens his grip, pulling him closer and digs his forehead hard into his. “it means you give yourself to me so i can have the weapon that you are and use you the way you're meant to be used."
the ice in soap's eyes fractures.
ghost’s voice drops to a whisper, spoken only to johnny, not this facade of vengeance and pain, and wills it to reach him through the glaciers.
“so i can keep you safe ‘til it’s done and i can bring you back.”
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It is interesting how much math comes into even the most basic of like. Making things. Making almost anything. And often not numbers necessarily but proportions and geometry. I think all the time about how castles were built with geometry at the heart of it. And I use the same kind of proportional math to make socks fit. And none of my pieces are ever knit with a prime number of stitches--because you use factors to make neat colorwork and ribbing and different stitches. Idk ! I remember constantly thinking 'how the hell is THIS gonna come in useful ?' But it always does. Math is at the heart of everything, and knowing how to apply it is a tool of critical importance to Thinking Up A Shape And Making It.
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absolutely obsessed with the idea of timbern being super secretive over bear's time in the cult.
on one hand, bear is wildly insecure of his scars from the cult. cause it's not like he fucking got them saving the city or helping someone, he was just stupid enough to get sucked into a cult. (a voice in the back of his head that sounds a lot like his therapist and tim tell him that kids are supposed to be stupid and that his time in the cult is more a reflection of the adults in his life than his own choices) anyway his back and legs are like a mess of scarring and normally he'd just tattoo over them but scars have to be a certain age before they're tattooable. so he now just covers them up.
on the other hand, tim is insanely protective over bear's traumas. like if he got any more protective he'd be like certified deranged. so he just straight up dodges or lies about bear's backstory. anyway all this to say, they're hanging out in the pool at the manor and nobody but them ws supposed to be home. so bear thinks it's safe to take off his shirt. they're both having fun until someone says behind bear, "dude... what happened to your back?" cue tim lunging at them like a rabid dog and bear struggling to hold tim back going "tim, tim, what the fuck, what the fuck????"
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