task force 141 · call of duty · military · onesies · sleepover · camaraderie · humor · ghost · soap · bonding
The hallway was quiet, lit by the soft glow of evening lights. I adjusted the hood of my wolf onesie, the fabric warm against my skin, and shifted the bag of snacks in my grip. My knock on Price's door cut through the silence. It swung open to reveal Gaz, grinning from within a monkey costume. Beyond him, the room was a storm of fleece and laughter. Soap, a dinosaur, clambered over Ghost, who sat stiffly in a dog suit, his masked face the picture of long-suffering patience. On the couch, Price held court in a bear onesie, lifting his coffee mug with regal calm, entirely unbothered by the furry chaos unfolding around him.