DefinedReality
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It didn't make sense. There was nothing out of the ordinary, no celebratory bonfires, no animals peering at them from the woods, no Northern Lights dancing in the sky…
Nothing but the moon hanging low and full, gleaming across the empty range…
…and the fact that tonight, Johnny smelled like the North Sea.
— 🦭 —
Every few months, Johnny disappears. Ghost has learned not to ask—but tonight, something's different. And this time, Ghost isn't going to let him go alone.
- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by DefinedReality
24 Jun 2026
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Something was wrong.
The rest of the team felt it in pieces—Price mentioned once that Soap had been quieter after Chicago. Gaz thought Tav had been sleeping less. Laswell noted his reports had become shorter.
But Ghost sees the whole picture. Soap is still smiling. Still cracking jokes. Still volunteering for the worst assignments. Still the first man through a door. Still the one who stays up with Gaz after a rough mission. Still the one who brings Price coffee before briefings. Still the one who patches everyone up, talks everyone down, keeps morale high.
Soap takes care of everyone… everyone except himself.
Bookmarked by DefinedReality
23 Jun 2026
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"Close now. Remember the rules?" Ghost talks loud to be heard, but his voice rumbles low and deeper through him than the engines and their repetitive noise, an edge there that Soap can’t put his finger on, reminiscent of how he sounds when Price tightens their leash.
"There are no rules," he echoes their earlier conversation, but relents as Ghost narrows his eyes. "Forty-eight hours. I'm late, I fail. I'm caught, I fail. I die to some random animal attack or 'cause I break my ankle, I fail and ye won't come find me. That about it?"
Soap has some things to work out. Ghost is happy to help.
Neither is prepared for just how far they'll go.Bookmarked by DefinedReality
22 Jun 2026
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Ghost squints at him, one eye closed. “Rain stopped?”
“Perceptive as usual, sir.”
Ghost stands, stretching his arms above his head and rolling his neck. His shirt rides up to expose more than a sliver of skin—hips, and soft belly, and hair trailing into his boxer briefs—and Soap averts his eyes.
Bookmarked by DefinedReality
20 Jun 2026
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Soap frowns.
“I can’t ask you to do that,” he says after a beat.
“You’re not. I’m offering.”
Soap wants to protest further, he really does. But he’s so tired. It would be worth the humiliation if he could just get one night of rest.
Bookmarked by DefinedReality
19 Jun 2026