Sherlock and his trusted friend dr. Watson
(I was so tempted/close to giving Sherlock a long-haired fluffy mallet)
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Ghost's attention almost had a weight of it's own, dark eyes sharp when they locked on the object of his interest, his focus absolute and unwavering.
Most of the time it was cold, clinical, assessing; analyzing the risks and the possible benefits.
Sometimes it was predatory.
Possessive.
Dangerous.
It was always heavy.
It was always there.
A physical touch, blade pressed to skin, cold air on the back of the neck.
Most people found it unnerving, but Soap felt almost naked without it; the weight of Ghost's attention was as familiar as the shape of a knife in the palm of his hand, the scent of smoke, the burn of good scotch at the back of his throat.
With Ghost next to him, or knowing he's watching from afar, following him with a scope - it was grounding.
It felt right.
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Are you down for a round of chess?
Coming back from such a long break with a Homestuck fanart. Nature is healing, I AM HEALING, buahaha
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