Hello! My name is Jess and I write sometimes so here is a masterlist. Please enjoy your stay!
main blog // twitter
my inbox is always open, requests are currently closed; I work & go to school full time so I might be a tad slow at getting things out sometimes but I do my best to get to everything!
all the graphics, dividers and images I post on my stuff I've made so please credit if you use :) other images such as gifs on my older stuff is credited
I’m most active over on Archive of our Own
Task Force 141
Situational Awareness
The boys get captured following a lead on Shepherd and it’s up to you to save them before its too late.
John “Soap” MacTavish
The Time in Between
Soap always knows how to put the pieces back together.
Wishful Thinking
You and Soap talk about the future.
Out in the Cold
The team goes looking for information on Makarov, things go sideways.
Follow the Bird - Part One // Part Two
You and the boys infiltrate a gala looking for intel.
Captain John Price
Watching Over (Platonic)
Price tries to keep you awake while captured.
Simon “Ghost” Riley
Right Behind You (Platonic)
Ghost tried to keep his distance from the youngest member of the 141, it did not work.
As Ghost’s eyes traveled up he noticed the hair, dark brown with the sides shaven and long messy waves cascading over his head creating an unruly mohawk that oddly fit the man well. Ghost wondered idly if the man ever spiked it, wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through the long waves, grasp and pull at the strands as he-
Nope. Not doing that.
Following an injury, Ghost is medically discharged. He opens a bakery with the help of Price and Roach where one Scottish tattoo artist refuses to leave him alone. Though, he's not sure he minds.
Snippet bellow // AO3 Link
Ghost looked up and felt the breath leave him as a man walked in. He hadn't seen him around before, not that that said much with him staunchly avoiding interacting with anyone outside his approved circle and hiding in the kitchen.
The man was tall and well-built, slightly smaller than himself but just as sturdy. He wore a loose tank top and faded jeans showing off a lot of skin; skin that was tan and absolutely covered in tattoos. Brightly colored Neo Traditional patchwork covered each arm with ink swirling up his neck beneath a leather choker that had Ghost’s palms sweaty, fingers itching to yank on it.
Ghost thought about his own sleeve of tattoos, the ones he got to prove to the world he was a man, no longer a scared kid. He wondered what good it really did him in the end. Deep down he knew he'd always be that scared kid, stuck yearning for a love he'd never receive.
As Ghost’s eyes traveled up he noticed the hair, dark brown with the sides shaven and long messy waves cascading over his head creating an unruly mohawk that oddly fit him well. Ghost wondered idly if the man ever spiked it, wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through the long waves, grasp and pull at the strands as he-
Nope. Not doing that.
The man had a few piercings along his lobes, some small silver hoops accompanied by a tiny gold dagger forward helix and what looked like a sliver and gold explosion bursting from his conch.
He finally approached the counter and Ghost didn't miss the slightly offset gait as he did. The man's smile was warm as he stopped in front of the bakery case. Ghost met his eyes, mouth immediately drying out at the intense icy blue hue that stared back at him.
Though something about the way he stood felt familiar, the square of his shoulders and the set of his jaw, Ghost wondered if he was military too.
"Hi there." The man spoke, a Scottish tilt coating his words, "I was gonnae ask for the sweetest thing here but I think that's you."
Ghost groaned internally, that was awful.
"Bloody hell." Ghost mumbled under the mask. Next time Roach had an appointment he'd just close the bakery. The growing heat on his neck and beneath the mask was downright uncomfortable and annoying.
The man tilted his head and Ghost quickly shoved away the thoughts in his head that viewed the action as cute.
Ghost cleared his throat, "I'm not on the menu." He deadpans, trying to deflect any further advances despite the small part of his brain that feels warm at the interaction, the part that screams at him to engage the Scot further.
All it earns him is a wolfish grin from the other man, “what a shame.”
I hope every writer who sees this writes LOADS the next few months. Like freetime opens up, no writers block, the ability to focus, etc etc you’re able to write loads & make lots of progress <3
