task force 141 reacting to [reader] telling them corny jokes during a mission — python333
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synopsis just as the title says, tf141 reacts to you telling them some corny dad jokes during a mission!
relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.
characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.
warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], bad jokes.
note ME AND MY 23 FOLLOWERS ARE STRAIGHT CHILLING RN. i love all of u. anyway gaz is in this one!! yippee!! i thought about ghost and his jokes in that one part of one of the cod games idk ive never played them i watch other people play it but you guys know what im talking about. i also just figured out that i should probably specify gender neutral reader for my fics?? so i'll start doing that! ANYWAY enjoy!! this is all fluff and has some classic tired parent & hyper toddler energy in the first part :}
JOHN “BRAVO SIX” PRICE
➥ insert exasperated sigh here.
➥ he will let you keep telling him jokes, however he will only respond to them with a simple, tired, “Uh huh. Good one. Very funny. Nice one.”
➥ tired dad energy.
➥ the first one you told was okay. he laughed at that one. the tenth one? please, god, just stop talking and put him out of his misery.
➥ he wonders how you know so many jokes, and then wonders if you got them all from ghost.
➥ if you did get them from ghost, trust that he will be telling the man himself all about how you constantly told him bad jokes over comms.
➥ if you just happen to know all of these, he won’t be surprised.
➥ he’ll put up with all of the jokes, for your sake, of course.
➥ the first time this happens, you’re both on a pretty insignificant mission compared to other ones you’ve done.
➥ you’re both talking over comms, just making sure you’re both okay.
➥ that’s when you started your attack.
—
“Captain?” You’d asked, listening as Price hummed in acknowledgment of you talking, “Wanna hear a joke?”
You could practically hear his hesitation, before he responded with a tentative, almost scared, “... Sure, [c/n].”
A delighted grin split across your face as you asked him, “How does dry skin affect you at work?”
He thought for a moment before asking, “How?”
“You don’t have any elbow grease to put into it.” You heard Price give a small chuckle, and decided to ask, “Wanna hear another one?”
Price’s second mistake of the evening, “Sure.”
“Where do boats go when they’re sick?” You asked, still keeping a lookout on your surroundings on your end while focusing on telling your Captain shitty jokes.
“Where?” Price asked.
“To the boat doc.” It took Price a moment, before he huffed out a small laugh and muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “Jesus, that’s terrible.”
Without warning, you tell him another one. He asks why, when, how, or what, whichever was appropriate for the joke you told, and slowly but surely his questioning tone became tired and exasperated. You don’t know why, but somehow his miserable tone made you even more motivated to tell him corny jokes.
“Do you just… memorize all of these?” Price asked in the middle of you telling a new joke, sounding almost astonished.
“Yes I do. Just for these missions, I do,” You answered confidently, smiling when Price sighed. You continued on with your joke, and even though Price didn’t respond verbally, you still told the punch line. You had repeated this for at least ten minutes, all of those minutes appallingly slow to Price, the poor man having to endure your bullshit for such a short yet such a long time. At the tenth minute, the only thing that stopped you from continuing was Gaz’s voice coming on over comms and interrupting you, telling everyone else on the mission that they could head back to the rendezvous point. Price, relieved at the interruption, gave a thankful sigh and you could hear him getting up from his spot before he muted himself.
You sighed as well, yours a direct opposite of Prices, full of disappointment, but you let it go. Besides, you’ll always have more opportunities to terrorize Price with your jokes on the ride back to base!
—
JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH
➥ he has the same reaction he had with ghost telling him corny jokes.
➥ he’ll call your jokes terrible, but will still laugh at them somehow.
➥ will 100% put up with your jokes, will laugh every time, even if his laughter slowly becomes more and more strained, he’ll laugh.
➥ tells you some jokes back, but after your 4th joke, he gives up and accepts his fate.
➥ he will suffer for your entertainment, guaranteed.
➥ he will be sure to remind you of how terrible your jokes are though!!
➥ he’s honestly impressed by how many jokes you’ve memorized.
➥ he’ll happily support you doing this to other people, no matter how much it damages his soul when you do it to him.
➥ the first time you do it to him, he starts getting deja vu from when ghost did it to him.
➥ “Oh, God, no’ ye too,” he’d groan playfully the moment you start telling him jokes, getting flashbacks.
➥ enjoys your jokes, even if he would do anything for you to shut up, he still enjoys them.
—
You and Soap were camping out in the same spot—atop a roof of a tall building that was just tall enough to give you a view of practically every other building in the area as well as the ground. It was cold up there, the air so cold that every time you’d exhaled, your breath turned to white condensation before fading into the clear sky.
It was fair to say that you and Soap were fairly bothered by the cold, so you really had no other option, you just had to start telling your jokes. How else could you warm the both of you up? Sure, it wouldn’t do anything physically, but mentally? It was sure to practically melt Soap’s brain.
“Soap?” Soap hummed and looked over at you, “Wanna hear a joke?”
Soap smiled, and decided to humor you, “Sure. Joke ‘way.”
“Why couldn’t the bike stand up by itself?” You asked, turning fully towards Soap. He didn’t bother to think before asking, “Why?”
“Because it was two-tired.” It took him a moment, but eventually he huffed out a small laugh and nodded.
“No’ bad,” He’d hummed, “Want me to say one?”
“Go ahead.”
“How did vikings communicate with one another?” Soap asked, turning fully towards you in turn.
“How?”
“By Norse code,” Soap had said with a grin on his face, clearly proud of the joke. You laughed quietly at it.
Without asking, you tell another joke. “Why did the bed wear a disguise?”
“Why?”
“It was undercover.”
Soap chuckled and turned back down to the ground, assuming you were done. But, oh boy, did he assume wrong. You told another one. He asked for the punchline. You delivered. You told another. He asked again. You delivered, again. Can you recall just how many jokes you told that fateful night? No. Does that make the memory any less funny to look back on? No.
Soap’s expression slowly turned to one of misery, his laughter becoming strained and slowly coming to a stop, the light in his eyes fading away as God himself seemed to appear behind you and reassure him that it would all be over soon. God, how he wished that were true.
Soon enough, you were both told over comms that you were able to safely make it back to the rendezvous point, and Soap couldn’t be happier.
He let you tell him more jokes during the walk over there, of course, and made sure to tell you how awful they were, but still endured them for your sake.
—
SIMON “GHOST” RILEY
➥ it’s like he’s been preparing for this moment his whole life.
➥ he’ll put up with your jokes and will tell you a joke back every single time.
➥ at some point you guys will probably use a joke on each other that the other one told you.
➥ he actively enjoys the joke-telling.
➥ he probably tells the first joke and that’s what triggers you to tell him your own.
➥ he’s annoyed soap, gaz, price, and a few others with his jokes, yet you’re the first one to go back and forth with him.
➥ every time you tell him one he’ll make a mental note of it and remember it for annoying people on future missions.
➥ probably thinks some of the jokes are genuinely funny but still knows that it annoys people.
➥ if you tell him a corny joke related to ghosts, he’ll probably laugh more.
➥ i am aware that that is pretty corny in itself but look at the title man what did you expect.
➥ he’ll probably tell some jokes about your [c/n] to you back.
➥ he’ll know when you’re reusing a joke and calls you out on it.
➥ “Does this require more creativity than you expected, [c/n]?”
➥ [in a perfect imitation of matpat’s voice] i find his jokes delightful! [in regular voice, now whispering as if scared i’m going to get caught by ghost saying this] i’m lying. he’s my fictional father figure so i am very much obligated to enjoy his jokes.
—
”[c/n], how copy?” You heard Ghost’s voice crackle through over comms, and pushed the PTT button on your small ear piece to respond.
“Copy, doing just fine,” You responded, “Little bored, if I’m gonna be honest.”
“Oh really?” Ghost breathed out, sounding amused. You could hear some gunfire on his end, and the wind his his earpiece making the annoying whoosh noise you hated. Just a few moments later, Ghost spoke up again, “Y’wanna hear a joke to ease your boredom?”
“Sure,” You’d hummed, looking around to make sure you were still safe to just stay where you were and chat for a moment.
“What do you call a boomerang that doesn’t come back?” Ghost asked, his voice dry and sarcastic. You thought for a moment before shrugging—even though he couldn’t see you—and asking, “What?”
“A stick.” Ghost delivered. The stupid joke made you huff out a small laugh and mutter under your breath something about how good it was, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically hear Ghost’s self-satisfied smile.
“Another?” Ghost offered.
“How about I tell one?”
“Alright. Go ‘head.”
“How do ghosts stay in shape?” You asked, listening to Ghost’s amused huff on the other end of the line, like he knew where you were going with the joke but decided not to say the punch line for you.
“How?”
“They exorcize,” You responded, grinning, proud of yourself for thinking of that one.
“That’s not bad,” Ghost hummed, “Not bad at all.”
Ghost stayed quiet for another moment before asking, “Where do fish keep their money?”
“Where?”
“In a river bank,” Ghost said, his smile almost audible in his words.
“Nice one, L.t,” You breathed out, laughing quietly.
“We could do this all night,” Ghost mused, oddly happy at the sound of your quiet laughter, a little rustling audible on his end.
“Is that a challenge?” You asked in response to his musings, to which Ghost responds with a simple, affirmative hum. You think for a moment, before asking, “Why can’t a leopard hide?”
“Why?”
“Because he’s always spotted.”
Ghost hummed, mentally writing that one down before asking, “Why did the scarecrow get an award?”
“Why?”
“Because he was outstanding in his field,” Ghost delivered. With each joke you cringed more, and yet you kept responding with the same bullshit. The two of you went back and forth with the shitty jokes, eliciting responses from each other like, “That’s a good one,” or, “God, that’s awful.” It really had no in between, it was one or the other.
Eventually, and just in time because you were beginning to run out of jokes, Price’s voice crackled through over comms, letting you both know that everything was now under control and gave you both the coordinates for the rendezvous point. Before you get up from your spot, you can hear Ghost asking Price, “Wanna hear a joke?”, and Price’s quick response of, “I’m good”, the quick interaction making you laugh quietly.
“He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” You muttered, voice full of amusement.
“Damn right he doesn’t,” Ghost huffed out, chuckling quietly when Price groaned and muted himself.
—
KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK
➥ he just gives up and accepts his fate.
➥ i’m actually in full belief that he’ll just let you tell jokes and won’t even respond.
➥ if y’all are in the same spot, he’ll just stare at you in astonished silence, wondering how you know all of this and also wondering if he’ll make it out of this alive.
➥ i think he’s lovely, i also think that he would just let you do whatever.
➥ it’s like an older brother participating in his younger sibling’s tea party with their stuffed animals and bright pink plastic tea cups and fake tea.
➥ he considers taking out his earpiece but then realizes that that’s a bad idea so he just suffers through it.
➥ surprisingly, it’s easy to focus on his tasks even with your voice in the background.
➥ he’s only heard of ghost’s shitty jokes, and thinks that this might be worse, somehow.
➥ i mean, it’s not like he can’t ignore it, but he feels kind of bad that he does.
➥ he hums every now and then to remind you that he’s listening but he’s too caught up in pretending to listen to actually listen.
➥ when the mission’s over and you eventually stop telling your jokes he realizes how quiet it is without your voice in the background laughing at your own jokes.
—
“Why do bees have sticky hair?” You asked, this being about your twentieth joke of that evening. Gaz hummed in response, tone questioning, and you delivered the punch line, “Because they use a honeycomb.”
Gaz didn’t pay much attention to any of your punchlines, really just letting you get all of this out of your system, figuring that if you didn’t do it now it’d happen to some poor soul later. He accepted his fate early on, the moment you told your third dad joke, he knew it wouldn’t end. Call it a sixth sense of his, knowing when you’d be persistent in your quest to annoy every member of the 141, but he just knew.
“Where do surfers learn to surf?” You asked, giggling quietly at your own joke, despite the punchline being stupid. Gaz didn’t even respond, yet you still delivered, “At boarding school.”
Gaz considers taking his earpiece out for a moment, then thinks again and decides it’s probably better not to, knowing Price’s voice could crackle through into the earpiece and let you both know to head to the rendezvous point.
Sighing quietly, he continued to look around him, scanning the area as he walked around, making sure no enemies were left alive. Your voice still hummed in the background, the sound becoming more normal to him and less distracting.
“Why did the tourists feel disappointed after seeing the Liberty Bell?” No response from Gaz. “Because it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.”
“What do rabbits need after getting caught in the rain?” A small, questioning hum. “A hare dryer.”
You continued to tell your jokes, and in the middle of one, Gaz interrupted.
“Y’know,” He started, “If you didn’t already have a call sign, we’d be calling you Jester.”
“I’d love to go by Jester,” You laughed quietly, lightly, “I feel like it’d be more fitting.”
“Probably, yeah,” Gaz chuckled quietly, about to say something else before Price’s voice came through over comms and let you both know to head over to the rendezvous point. After you stop telling your jokes and mute yourself, Gaz can’t help but notice how quiet it becomes.
He got a bit too used to your voice, it seems. He muted himself and sighed, pulling up the coordinates to the rendezvous point and heading over there.
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can you write for Tonowari x reader but there’s no ronal in this one.
Water on Rock
Pairing: Tonowari / Reader
Word Count: 1,037
Warnings: Hunting, animal death. Does not contain spoilers for The Way of Water. Does not contain gore. Does mentions of blood and minor injury.
Summary: You want to go fishing and bite off a little more than you can chew. Tonowari decides to lend you a hand.
Gif by bbutterrcuppp
Small waves crashed against the rock you crouched upon. Deep blue water crawled up the stone platform, trying to lick at your feet. You ignored it resolutely, too focused on your task to pay much mind to the chilly liquid trying to reach your crouching form. Your tail swayed ever so slightly from side to side. Your ears stood at attention, perked up while you tried to pinpoint a sound in the swirling depths. There was the caw of an avian creature in the distance. There was the soft splash of water on rock. There was the distant sounds of the village, which you could hear from your post. And suddenly- there. There it was.
Something dark, moving below the surface. You could hear its lithe body shooting through the water. The small ripples it made. Swift as the very thing you hunted, you slammed your spear downwards, catching the fish in the center of its back and effectively ending its life. A triumphant grin tugged at your lips, baring your teeth to the water.
Victory tasted a lot like salty air.
You stood and started to pull your spear from the water. It was oddly heavy. The creature you speared wasn’t that large. Surely it wasn’t this weighted on its own. You leaned over the edge of the rock, squinting down into the waters below. The dark shape had stopped moving. Maybe if you just got a closer look…
It sprang to life suddenly. You could see now a little too late that your spear had struck it beside its fin, not in its back. It was playing dead to fool you. A squawk that was hardly dignified of the village Tsahìk left your lips as you were yanked forward into the water. The crisp air of fall had made the water carry a slight chill, and it washed over you now. You held on stubbornly through your spear. Pain shot through your stomach. The stubborn little thing was pulling your spear- and, unfortunately, you along with it. Your body dragged along rocks, smacking into what felt like every hard surface beneath the water. You tightened your grip on your weapon and yanked backwards, pulling the fish back towards yourself. The butt end of your spear smacked you in the nose.
Cursing angrily, you expelled all your air at once. Your spear slipped from your hands and blood made the water by your head murky. Despite your lack of oxygen, you shot forward after the creature that had caused all of this. You were going to kill it with your teeth. Or, you would have, had a second spear not cut through the water and pierced it correctly, pinning it to a formation of rock. Seconds later, a hand grasped onto the back of your neck and hauled you out of the water like you were no more than a misbehaving child. You thrashed, gasping once the cold air hit your wet skin. Your hand struck something solid and you heard a hiss.
“Really?” A voice demanded. Your ears shot up at its familiarity. They then lowered with sheepishness. Still holding the back of your neck was your dearly beloved mate who you hadn’t at all meant to smack. His expression was a deadpan one.
“I did not know it was you,” you said. It was a little difficult to turn your head towards him, and so you settled for awkwardly looking at him from your peripheral. “How did you find me?”
His hand released you. You were able to turn now and get a look at him. His expression was severe, and the thought of disappointing your lover made your heart drop like a stone. Only one thing stopped you from being completely dejected. His lips were set in a hard line. Too firm to be natural. And his posture was rigid like he was trying to prevent a movement of sorts. He inhaled, and- Great Mother.
He was trying not to laugh. The realization had you gasping, and your hand settled over your heart in mock offense.
“You!” You cried.
His resolve broke. Tonowari’s eyes crinkled around the edges, clear evidence of his smile.
“It was hard not to realize something was wrong,” he said. “I could see the bubbles and splashing from the village. Is it not beneath you to play with the fish?”
“I was not playing,” you hissed. “There was an attempt on my life. Look at me!”
He looked you up and down. His eyes lingered on your stomach. Then, they shot up to your face.
“Did the fish do that to you?”
Once more, you hissed. “The fish was vicious.”
“I am sure.” He circled you. His hand gently touched your lower back- his palm alone covering the entirety of it. “It seems as though it was able to claim victory against you.”
“I had it.” It was a little difficult to focus on defending yourself when his skin was so warm whilst your body was so cold. Perhaps if you kept talking, he would linger. You tilted your head back to look up at him once more and found he was equally focused on you. He was bent over- just barely- as though trying to near your height- and suddenly even breathing was difficult. Your breath caught in your throat.
“You should dress your wounds.” His face was so close to yours.
“I should.” Your gaze was locked on his lips. His hand drifted upwards on your back. He began to lean down, stopping when he was mere inches from your face. Your eyes snapped back up to meet his. He smiled.
“And I should retrieve our meal. If it is still edible after you poked so many holes in it.”
Bastard.
His hand dropped from your back, leaving your skin cold in his absence. He turned away from you and began making his way down the sand towards where his spear still stuck out of the water. You were left with your hand on your heart. It pounded frantically beneath your palm. You huffed and turned away from him, making your way back to the village, resolute in the fact that you would be getting him back.
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