everyone makes fun of soap when they find out how many hair and skin products he keeps on hand. the cabinet in his bathroom is filled to bursting and he always keeps travel sized bottles on him on missions
when soldiers outside the 141 find out, they call him precious and self-obsessed, a vain pretty boy too preoccupied with his reflection to focus on the enemy. no wonder how he got his callsign. price has given up telling him to leave them on base and just teaches him to individually wrap them so they don’t rattle against each other and give himself away
what they don’t know is that each product contains an ingredient that when mixed with any number of the others, creates potent chemical bombs. he was caught unarmed once, he won’t let it happen again
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SOAP MACTAVISH AT GORA DAM | MODERN WARFARE III
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hii you know ily... <3
What thoughtful little thing you'd think they'd do each other for/during a(n easy) mission? like, Soap lighting up and putting a cigarette in Ghost's mouth when he's lying down in a sniper position, or angling himself so he provides him a shade in the 40C+ desert. or Ghost pulling Soap's fave snack out of his infinite "contains a boltcutter whether or not its standard equipment"/ "dedicated squad draft horse"-backpack, something like that<3
😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️ I MEAN...… all of the above, no notes no thoughts… give me all of it yesterday
In return for these delish imagines I have some humble cunt x cunt violence/love for your consideration:
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“simon riley’s dead,” ghost chokes out; bitter resentment coating his tongue. “i’m just wearin’ ‘is corpse.”
mactavish doesn’t shy from his venom; sees through his hiss and doesn’t fear his rotten-fanged bite. he reaches out, pressing the flat of his hand to his breast and ghost damns himself for the way his breath catches; for the way his shoulders curl in around it in a silent plea for it to stay.
“that’s no drum in your chest,” he whispers defiantly.
his hand slowly drags over his chest, coming to rest over his sternum and he feels its possession like a brand against his skin.
“it ain’t bellows inflating your lungs,” he dares and he involuntarily inhales; his body longing to rise to his challenge.
mactavish pushes and he rocks back on his heels just to sway in closer; just to beg for the pressure to chase the phantom weight of six feet of dirt from his bones.
“you’re far from rigor mortis, riley,” he promises and there’s air at ghost’s back instead of decaying wood and infested flesh. “i won’t let the earth take you from me yet.”
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No mention of Gaz even though hes the main character since mw ‘19. Activision isnt hiding their blatant racism anymore.
These characters have over 5 skins yet Gaz only has 2 which came during launch. Im so fucking tired of this shit
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Prompt 286
Danny doesn’t think his eyes have ever been so wide, half cradled as he was against the ghost of time, who was… much larger than he was when he had met him. Not as big as the ghost king, at least in height or bulk, but, he didn’t know, longer? Give him a break, he was exhausted and injured!
“Clockwork,” the ghost rasped, standing to their full height as an unreadable expression crossed over corpse-pale skin. “You look… well…”
“Don’t you ‘look well’ me, Pariah Dark!” Clockwork spat, his cloak mostly covering Danny and look, he couldn’t help but to curl closer, it was nice and he was tired! It was soft, and warm, like what he thinks silk might maybe feel like, and comforting like a blanket straight out of the dryer.
He blinked away dizziness, pausing in his idly petting of the bit of cloak in his hand when he realized he had missed a bit of the… argument? Conversation? It wasn’t a fight yet, but he wasn’t going to throw it out as a possibility. Ugh, his everything ached.
“I saw all that you could become, all that you would become,” the time ghost’s claws- didn’t he have gloves before- gripped at his hair, crimson eyes practically smoldering.
Danny looked between the two like he was watching a football game, eyes wide beneath his bangs and mouth parted in a small o of verging realization over what he was hearing.
“And somehow-” Clockwork threw his hands up, cloak flaring from the motion. “I still fell in love with you like an idiot!”
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