Reblogged
kate my beloved
Reblogged
Anonymous asked:
I'm always so amazed by the way you portray the boys so beautifully. I am warmed by your view of them and it always feels like home, so thank you 😭
Forgive me if you've been asked this before, but have you drawn Ghost's brother Tommy before? I wondered if perchance you had ideas for him and their relationship 😣
....... weeping about this... I TOO am amazed, as this is all I've ever wanted
I'd never thought about him directly, but I've referenced him vaguely in this comic... I gotta imagine they were like most siblings: soulmates/nemeses/their only allies in life.. I can't imagine his brother WASN'T every reason Ghost's the kind of leader he is in the game
Reblogged
𝖨'𝗅𝗅 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗒! || 𝖩𝗈𝗁𝗇𝗇𝗒 '𝖲𝗈𝖺𝗉' 𝖬𝖺𝖼𝖳𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗁 ||
A/n: I am writing some things at the moment that will make me feel better
John got an Honorable Discharge, tw: for PTSD
The summer air was thick with laughter and the smoky scent of grilled food and popcorn, neighbors scattered across the yard with sparklers and beers in hand. The fireworks hadn’t started yet, but John was already tense, his fingers twitching slightly where they rested on the arms of the lawn chair. He tried not to show it, but you knew the signs—his jaw tight, his knee bouncing.
You reached over, brushing your fingers gently over his. “You okay?”
He gave you a crooked smile. “’Course. Just… stayin’ alert.”
Before you could respond, a loud crack! went off in the distance—someone down the street setting off an early firework. John’s shoulders flinched, his whole body going rigid for a moment, breath catching as the noise echoed. His nails digging into the side of the chair.
Before you had a chance to respond you heard the sound of little footsteps padding up behind him. Your five-year-old daughter, barefoot in the grass and wearing an oversized t-shirt with a cartoon skull on it (a gift from Uncle Ghost, obviously), climbed into his lap without a word. She reached up, tiny hands gently cupping both of his ears like she’d done a million times during games of “protect the soldier.”
“I got you, Daddy,” she whispered with all the seriousness a little girl could muster,a tiny little pout forming on her lip. “You don’t gotta be scared. I’ll protect you from the boom-booms.”
John blinked, stunned into silence. Then—God—his eyes softened, the tension in his chest easing as he wrapped his arms around her.
“You’re my brave wee lass,” he murmured, voice thick as he kissed the crown of her head. “You always keep me safe, don’t you?”
She nodded proudly, hands still covering his ears. “Always.”
You leaned into his side, resting your head on his shoulder as the first real fireworks lit up the sky in bursts of color. John didn’t flinch this time—not with your hand in his, and your daughter guarding his ears like her life depended on it.
He wasn’t just a soldier tonight.
He was a dad.
And he was safe
All thanks to you and his little girl.
His hero.
