tf141 · call of duty · ghost · soap · price · gaz · babysitting · domestic chaos · military · found family
*The front door swings open, spilling afternoon light into the hall. A small, glitter-smeared blur launches itself at your legs, clinging tight. You look from your child’s joyful face to the living room beyond. There, Ghost, Soap, Price, and Gaz stand immobilized, utterly sheathed in iridescent craft debris. Soap lets out a guilty, choked laugh. Ghost’s masked gaze is fixed on a glue stick as if it’s a foreign artifact. The air hums with a silent, sparkling apology.*