Price was considered fatherly already, but experiencing one of his teammates being tiny increased it. He's the type to tie your shoes or help slip them off at the end of the day. He's the one to make sure you're tucked in properly at bedtime, which he enforces very strictly. The others often try to get him to let you stay up longer but he knows when his little one needs to sleep. So locked in he tries to baby you even when you're not in that headspace. Safe to say Price is the main caregiver.

Gaz likes to take advantage of you feeling tiny because it makes you extra sleepy and cuddly. When you're not, cuddling isn't even in the equation. But when you are, he loves just spending the entire day laying on the couch with you tucked into his side covered in a soft blanket. Nobody has seen you? Probably being tiny and laying on Gaz while watching your favorite TV shows and movies. He's the best at getting you to take naps (and usually falls asleep with you).

Soap riles you up 24/7. As soon as he gets word that you're feeling tiny from one of the others he's immediately gathering stuff to play with you. He already loves doing stuff with you on a normal day; but having a little buddy to play with and coo at? Even better. It doesn't matter if you're hyper or calm, loud or quiet, he's finding a game to play. You can even have the itty bittiest baby headspace and he still finds ways to have fun. Soap gets allegations of also being tiny because of how much he loves playing with toys with you, but he doesn't care.

Ghost was very hesitant whenever he first found out about your headspace. Even after the others became comfortable and fit into the role perfectly, he still felt out of the mix. Everyone knew how iffy he was around children, but maybe it would be different because it was you. If he ever found you feeling tiny, he would just hand you off to one of the others. They knew what to do and how to care for you. But over time he grew a little fond of holding you in his lap while he worked. You would simply curl up on his lap and lay against his chest while he typed on his computer or scribbled out reports with a pen. Admittedly, he grew to love the company.

It goes on for most of the day, and people just take to avoiding him as much as possible, at least until the quietly-brooding Ghost is back.

Except for you. Because you get a weird little feeling that says that there has to be something happening for him to be acting like this. Sure, Ghost is dry and blunt, a little social awkward at times, but he’s never acted like this before.

Alejandro damn near bought you everything on the menu, you sat on one side of the booth while Alejandro and Ghost sat on the other side. You knew they were watching your every move, you also knew they were whispering about you, they weren't nearly as quiet and discreet as they thought they were. You didn't mind though, you like knowing more than you should, and it meant you got to eat as much as you wanted, although you did make a point to sneak some food into your pockets for later.

“She went missing a few years back, the home wrecked and her parents dead. Fue un baño de sangre” (it was a bloodbath) he said the last part more quietly, like he was remembering what it looked like. “Her body was never found, we just assumed she was also killed, never would have imagined this” you noticed how ghost didn't react, he didn't say anything, you liked that about him. Alejandro turned to you “¿Puedes decirme qué pasó?” you just froze “¿Qué recuerdas?” (can you tell me what happened? What do you remember?) you remembered a lot, but still you didn't say anything. Alejandro just leaned back against the booth, he turned to Simon "hasn't said a thing, not sure she can” 

Simon stayed quiet, they both just sat there trying to watch you without making it obvious. You stayed completely still, that was till Alejandro got a phone call, which definitely made you jump slightly but you don't think they saw, Alejandro got up and pointed at Simon “seguro” (safe) before walking outside to take the call. When you looked back at Simon he wasn't looking at you, he was looking over the menu. Slowly you started eating again, after a moment Simon slowly turned the menu over so you could see it. He pointed to a picture of a churro at the bottom but he didn't say anything. 

It was Simon's way of showing you it was okay not to talk, you nodded slightly, Simon smiled before getting up to get you the churro. He placed the churro along with a small bag on the table in front of you. When he sat back down he made a point not to look at you, giving you privacy, Simon knows what it feels like to not have food, even now he doesn’t take it for granted, and he knows how uncomfortable it can feel around food. It took you a moment to understand what he was letting you do, you slowly took the small bag, you filled it to the brim with food, you still kept some food in your pocket just in case. You tucked the bag behind you before grabbing your churro, only then did Simon turn forward and look at you.

Alejandro came in just as you were finishing your churro, you looked at you eating, then at Simon, then at the table with no food left on it, he went to say something, probably asking how you managed to eat everything in the short time he was gone, but he decided against it. “We need to head back to base, and interrogate Valeria” her name made you freeze, you absolutely did not want to be anywhere near her again. Alejandro tried to calm you down, telling you that you would be nowhere near her, but he had failed you once, even if it wasn't intentional. Simon was the one that found you, you turned to him and he said in his softest voice “Todo saldrá bien. Te mantendré a salvo” (everything will be alright, I’ll keep you safe” it was said with the heaviest British accent, but it was clear and understandable. You nodded, slowly getting up, hiding the bag behind your back so Alejandro wouldn't see, and following Simon. As you guys were walking out he leaned over and whispered to Simon “I knew you spoke Spanish” Simon shrugged, if him speaking Spanish made you more comfortable that's what he would do.

Price was not sure what to think of the newest member of the team. Their file was not very helpful. (y/n) was clearly skilled. Seemed their hobby was taking online classes, with the number of certificates they have.

The issue Mimic had been transferred from team to team every sixish months since they joined. There were no complaints from these teams or Mimic, but every six months...

Yes of course <33

Platonic Yandere 141 Apocalypse Au

Living life in the aftermath of an apocalypse is difficult to say the least. Most of the zombies are slow husks, having mostly reached over the past couple of years.

It was frustrating teaching yourself survival skills, but you got the hang of it. Kind of. You were still a little rusty but you got the gist of it.

You know what berries were poisonous and which were edible, perks of living in the area. You knew how to jam everything to preserve them for the winter, and you knew how to pickle any veggies you found.

Getting protein was a lot harder. You couldn’t kill a deer or a bunny. They were to cute for you to kill. The only thing you settled on was fish. You felt a little less bad about eating fish for every meal, it was easy to cook and it didn’t taste that bad.

You were terrible at catching the fish, often being reduced to tears because of how frustrated you were.

You did everything correctly, you even used real bugs as bait, you waited for a couple of tugs before you reeled in your line. You caught a minnow. Fuck your life. But at least the Minnie would be good bait for you.

You hook the minnow onto your room and it makes a sickening pop that almost make you gag. The minnow is so small and cute, you can’t believe you’re having it as bait to catch your next meal.

“I’m sorry, fishy..” you mumble a simple apology as you cast your line back out. You wait for what feels like forever until you get a strong tug on your line, you wait to see if it will tug again. When you feel a pull, you reel in your line.

Your heart is beating out of your chest with anticipation, you want a big fish to last you the rest of the day. You reel it in, you pull so hard that the fish flies out of the water and smacks you right in the face. It feels slimy and gross against your skin, the slap momentarily stunning you.

You caught a decently sized fish, you grin in triumph. The fish is wriggling wildly, you lose your grip on it as you unhook its mouth.

“No!” The fish bounces off of the rock you’re standing on and it slides back into the water. Gone.

You throw your makeshift fishing rod as hard as you can, it clacks against the rocks as you clench your fists at your sides. You are so angry with yourself, how could you let your dinner get away from you. You feel tears well up in your eyes.

You storm over to your fishing rod, which you threw farther up the rocky shore, you angrily swipe it off of the ground and you begin to track back to your little base.

“Poor thing.” Johnny mumbles, looking at you through his binoculars from across the lake. They were too far away for them for you to even see them. They are all also in their camo gear, so it's really difficult to spot them.

He pulls the binoculars from his eyes, turning to his Captain, handing him the binoculars so he can take a look at you as well before you disappear into the tree line.

“Skinny fucker.” Simon mumbles, using his own pair of binoculars to watch you wander up the shore.

Price let’s put a grunt of agreement as he sets his sights on you through Johnny's binoculars. He lets out a sigh, handing them back to Johnny.

“Let’s start making our way over there, lads.” Price speaks up, Simon puts down his binoculars to look at his Captain as he walks past him. It’ll take maybe an hour to walk around the lake to where they spotted you.

Meanwhile, you’ve made it back to your little treehouse. It used to be a spot that you and your friends would play in for hours before the apocalypse, now, it’s just you left.

You set the fishing rod against the tree underneath the tree house so that it won’t get rained on. You climb up the ladder, still angry, accepting that you will go another night without something substantial in your stomach.

You curl up on your sleeping bag, leaning against the wooden wall as you bury your head in your knees, you're so upset with the situation you’re in. Why did you have to be that last one alive?

You sit there for a while, eating some of the picked wild carrots you foraged about two months ago, they are sour and they hit the spot, slightly cheering you up. Your tummy rumbles uncomfortably, you’re not going to sleep very well tonight.

The sun is starting to set, the trees casting long shadows over the forest floor as the world begins to get quiet. The zombies don’t really come around here that often, the last time you saw one was about two weeks ago, it had fallen in a ditch, you dropped a rock on its head before it had the chance to even climb out.they usually come out at night, they can’t reach you up in the tree house, they are to dumb to climb ladders anyway.

You even set up little noise traps, bells attached to strings that completely surround the tree house, you have a security system. You’re smart, you’re just not good at being a survivor.

Your eyes are in the process of fluttering closed, sleep is about to claim you. Your eyes snap open and your body tenses up as you hear a sound that you dread hearing. One of the bells has been triggered. The one closest to the shore. You quietly shuffle off of your sleeping bag, you peek out the window, there’s a zombie, but there is also a man.

You watch with wide eyes as the man uses a tactical knife, stabbing the zombie in the skull. It’s silent and efficient, they don’t want you to hear them coming. But it’s too late, the bell is triggered again as the man walks closer to the treehouse, almost tripping over the string that’s lower to the ground, about mid shin.

“Fuck.” You man mumbles, having heard the bell ring as well. You grab your slingshot, loading it with a pebble and you aim it out the window at the man.

THWACK

“OW!” You hit the man in the side of the head, he looks up to the window, rubbing the side of his head with a gloved hand. He has on a baseball cap with the Union Jack on it in faded grey.

He is heavily armed. Tactical vest, pistol, rifle, you name it, he has it. You load up another pebble, defending your only home from this strange man with a British accent.

“No nonono..!” He tries to dodge the second pebble, but you have impressive aim, even on a moving target. He uses his arms to shield his head.

THWACK

You get him on the forearm, and it hurts through his jacket.

“Shit! Stop it! I’m not here to-“ he is cut off by another pebble, you have plenty of ammo, you have a bucket full of them right beside you.

Your eyes catch some movement behind him, a man in a Tilly hat. He has a rifle pointed right at you. Before you can react and hit the floor, he fires it right at you. It was a dart gun, you soon find out as a dart pierces the skin on your shoulder.

You drop the sling shot, acting on instinct, you pull the dart from your skin before it can deliver the full dose of whatever sedative it’s filled with.

“Hey! I was dealing with it!” The first man tells the other man, a little frustrated that he used the dart gun so fast before he could begin to reason with you.

“You absolutely were not.” The older man huffs, stepping over the dead zombie, his shoes crunching the dry sticks and leaves in the forest floor.

You are starting to get dizzy, you sink to your knees, heart rate is faster than it should be. You gasp down air as you hear them get closer to the ladder of your tree house.

You hear the wooden rings of the ladder creak as someone ascends towards the trap door, they push on it, it’s heavier than it looks. The trap door opens, slamming against the wood on the floor as someone peeks their head in.

It’s the man with the Union Jack on his hat, he spots the bucket of pebbles by the window, scoffing a little bit as he climbs in the rest of the way.

“Little shite, how many fucking rocks do you got up here?” He murmurs, his pride a little wounded. This little kid was prepared to pelt him with pebbles for as long as possible. He watches you battle with the sedative as he stands to his feet, he leaves the trap door open.

You stare up at him with wide eyes as you enter an altered state of mind due to the drug. You get dizzy and tired really fast, your energy being sapped from your body in an unnatural way.

Gaz looks you over, your hair is a little dirty and your clothes are clearly very well used. There are some rips and tears, he can tell that you’ve stitched them up before. You have seen better days.

“It’s ok, kid.” He mumble, he picks up the discarded dart, looking to see how much of a dose you got. You wouldn’t fall asleep if you didn’t get a full dose. He purses his lips, you got about half of a dose before you pulled it out of your shoulder.

“Alright.. let’s get you down.” He puts the dart on one of your many shelves where it won’t be a danger to anyone else if it’s stepped on or used as a weapon. He carefully approaches you, making sure you won’t make any sudden movements as he gets closer.

He gently hauls you up by your arms, making sure you won’t fall over. He narrows his eyes as he feels how skinny your arms are. He’s seen a lot of things that he doesn’t even flinch at anymore, but a starving kid always tugs at his heartstrings.

“You got 'em?” Price calls up, he can’t really see anything that’s going on in the tree house, he slings the dart gun over his shoulder as he walks closer to the ladder. He peers up through the trap door from the ground, hands on his hips.

“All good, Captain.” Gaz comes into view through the trap door, already lowering you down. Price reaches up and carefully brings you down to the ground.

Gaz climbs back down the ladder once Price has a grip on you holding you upright. Gaz gets back onto the ground, turning to Price.

“We gonna set up a fire?” He asks, watching as his Captain adjusts his hold on you. You are half conscious, still able to move. You groan a little bit as he manhandles you slightly.

“Johnny and Simon are on it already.” Price grunts out, Johnny and Simon have helped themselves to your fire pit and your fire wood. You put a lot of labour into chopping that wood, if you were in the right state of mind, you would be very angry with them.

Simon has already started on some dinner, five MREs in one of your bigger pots over the fire. Johnny is helping himself to your axe, chopping fire wood with ease. He is like what? Three times the size of you, not including muscle mass?

You are sat in one of the camping chairs by the fire, a blanket tucked around you.

“There we go..” Price mumbles, stepping back to look you over. You look sleepy and precious, tucked in a blanket up to your chin.

“A meal will do you some good, huh? Strays always like food.” Price huffs out as he sits down in another one of your camping chairs beside you, he sinks into it, resting his weary feet. He stretches out his legs as he takes off his Tilly hat.

Simon grunts, but doesn’t say anything as he watches the water boil, he then stirs it around with one of his many knives so that all cook evenly.

Johnny leans the axe against a large stump, wiping sweat from his brow as he walks over to the fire where everyone has gathered.

He plops down on a log by the fire, letting out a big tired sigh. Gaz took the last camper's chair, so everyone else has to sit on the logs.

There are a lot of things Ghost expects from deployment.

Sleep deprivation? Normal.

Soap trying to freestyle during surveillance? Unfortunately, yes.

A teenager on base, following him around like a badly programmed drone? Absolutely not.

It starts with silence.

Which, under normal circumstances Ghost likes. Silence is comfortable. Predictable. But not when it’s coming from somewhere behind him.

Every time he turns a corner: footsteps.

Every time he stops to check his weapon: silence.

He looks up once during lunch to find a scrawny kid, maybe sixteen, sitting at the next table over. Dressed in black. Wearing a makeshift balaclava.

Just… staring.

Ghost blinks.

The kid blinks back.

And from that day forward, it’s like the universe decided to punish him.

Gaz nearly cries laughing the first time he catches them together.

“Mate,” Gaz wheezes, “you’ve got a fan club.”

Soap’s doubled over beside him. “Look at him! Wee man’s even got the mask! Same stance too!”

It’s true. The kid’s doing the full Ghost pose; arms crossed, shoulders square, slightly to the side. Like he’s studied hours of footage.

When Ghost moves, the kid moves.

When Ghost folds his arms, so does the kid.

When Ghost doesn’t speak, neither does the kid.

Soap snorts. “He’s like yer bloody shadow, Lt.”

“He’s not my shadow.”

“Could’ve fooled me. Look. he even follows ye into the gym.”

And he does.

Ghost tries switching routines, going earlier, later…nothing works.

Everywhere he goes, there’s this awkwardly lanky teen skulking after him with the intensity of a baby assassin.

It hits peak chaos during a mission briefing.

Price is explaining op details when the door opens.

Ghost walks in; mask, tac vest, full gear.

Behind him? The kid.

Same mask, same tac vest, oversized gear hanging off them like they’ve looted the quartermaster.

Price just stares.

“Riley.”

“Sir.”

“Care to explain the clone?”

Before Ghost can answer, the kid snaps to attention and salutes. “Recruit Ghost Jr., reporting for duty, sir.”

Soap’s gone. Crying.

Gaz is biting his knuckle trying not to laugh.

Price pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s aged ten years on the spot.

“Out,” Price says flatly.

Ghost doesn’t even argue..just turns on his heel. The kid mirrors the motion perfectly.

Later that night, Ghost finds the kid sitting by the firepit, still wearing the mask.

“You know you don’t have to copy me, yeah?” Ghost mutters.

The kid shrugs. “You’re cool.”

“Cool?”

“Yeah. You don’t talk. You’re scary. Everyone listens when you speak. You don’t… need to fit in.”

That makes him pause.

The way the kid says it—quiet, like it’s a prayer, like it’s about more than just mimicry—Ghost realises this isn’t just about admiration. It’s about wanting to matter.

He sighs.

“Kid,” he says, sitting down beside them, “trust me. Bein’ scary’s overrated.”

They glance over. “You mean… you don’t like it?”

“Means people don’t laugh with you. They just shut up.”

The kid thinks about that for a long moment.

Finally pulls off the mask. It’s crooked, sweaty, awkwardly held together with duct tape.

“Still,” they mumble, “you make it look kinda badass.”

Ghost huffs out something dangerously close to a laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

He freezes.

“What?”

“Nothing!” the kid squeaks. “Slip of the tongue!”

Soap, from somewhere behind a crate: “AYE, DAD!”

Ghost stands up. “I’ll kill him first.”

can i req a reader with the tf141 being on a mission and hearing an enemy say something in british slang and they just go "what did they just say.." in comms? like a reader who doesnt know anything about slang like not even that bars in the uk r called pubs (if im not wrong) and just nods whenever a private talks in slang, and their brain is just trying to figure out what they just said?

its just a really silly plot with a silly reader :3

pardon? — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the req says, you know nothing about british slang and on a mission the enemy speaks british and you dont know what theyre saying :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 2.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note HI YES I LOVE THIS REQ!! i take every opportunity i can to make fun of british people so this is right up my alley!! tysm for the compliments hjfhdjskf recently ive been getting more praise on my works and it makes me so happy i love yall. again, sorry if this sounds a little rushed or if any parts are incoherent, i wrote this at 12/1am and im both more productive and write more nonsense at this time + this one is wayyyy shorter than ones i usually do because i didnt know what else to write for it so i apologize for that as well! this is pure fluff and humor (i like to think im funny) so enjoy!!

Price & Ghost are amused and annoyed at the same time but it's better than the quiet

Roach being roach is already a menace on his own and has been for a long time

Soap always loves good fun especially when it involves a boom and always love to annoy Ghost a little

Gaz is the most reasonable and responsible but can't help himself when the fun sounds too tempting

Hyena already has chaotic gremlin energy and it only amplified when she's the youngest in the team aka she's their little sister