INTRO POST + MASTERLIST!!

Fun fact harvest mice sleep in flowers

You know where I'm going with this

You almost always had dark circles under your eyes as if you hadn't slept since you got here.

You were on the team for maybe about two weeks now, and they were welcoming. They understood you were a little different - different as in being a shifter instead of a hybrid - and they tried to accommodate you as best as they could.

One mission, they had to sleep outside overnight. Sometime around midnight, Simon had spotted you, in your mouse form, crawling up a tulip flower and curling in there. You were asleep almost immediately.

Of course, he brought it up to Price who then relayed the information to Johnny and Kyle.

From then on, they each worked at transforming your room into a little paradise. They added potted plants and especially a flower garden. They lined your walls with vines and added air fresheners that reminded you of a meadow.

You looked well refreshed every morning, now. You were greatful for such attentive teammates.

Cicada!reader who they think won't shut the fuck up

This happens every summer.

That constant buzzing or chirping or whatever the fuck you do. It's constant, it's annoying, and it gives everyone a headache.

The team tolerated it until one summer day during their free time, they had all decided to go to the training range and shoot downhill. That's when they confronted you.

"Can you shut the fuck up for once?" Simon suddenly glared at you, setting his rifle down on the bench nearby. "All you do is make noise and it's giving me a migraine."

Johnny and Kyle joined in, frowns settling in on their expressions. "We know yer a cicada hybrid, love, but it's bloody annoying." Kyle muttered.

"Is it really that hard not to make noise?" Johnny nodded along with Kyle.

Price turned towards you and gestured with his head at your folded wings. "We need to chop em off, yeah? Too noisy." Obviously, it was a joke. But it still scared the shit out of you nonetheless.

"But I don't even make noise!" You defend yourself. "I'm not the kind of cicada that does." As if on cue, the buzzing started up again. Everyone, including you, unanimously groaned. "Yeah, that's- that's not me."

Johnny yelled 'fuck' as though his world actually just ended right then and there. Kyle sighed heavily as if the answers to his issues just disappeared in a heartbeat. Price pinched the bridge of his nose like a dad would before putting on some noise-cancelling headphones. Simon just stared at you and shrugged.

Well, atleast you figured out why your team had been giving you death-stares for years now.

-(fun fact not all cicadas make noise and I lowk found that cool)

Cricket!reader anyone?

All you did was chirp.

At two in the morning, you chirped. At midnight, you chirp. It drove the guys nuts.

On one summer night, with the humidity high and the moon shining bright, they decided to corner you about it. Johnny approached the door to your room, flanked by Kyle and Simon. He used some random hand signals that nobody understood before sneaking into your room where you peacefully slept.

In one swift motion, Simon pinned you to the bed while Kyle played airhorn noises from his phone. Johnny screamed something like 'how do you like that, huh??' while poorly mimicking your chirping.

..let's just say you all were called to Price's office, your captain glaring at all of you in turn. He scolds you all as if you were children, but then brings up your chirping. "It's bloody annoying, Kid." he says with a pointed look towards you.

"Can't help it." You respond with a glare that would've gotten your ass beat by your mother. "It's the cricket version of sleep-talking. I'm naturally nocturnal but I adapted to fit your asses." you huff, - god, the attitude - and speak again. "I normally chirp when I communicate certain things. It's natural."

That moment lead to Price soundproofing your whole room. Which, in the long run, may not be a good idea, but atleast the guys could get sleep.

You felt empty inside.

As if a dark chasm opened before you and was waiting patiently for you to take the final step into oblivion.

An ache gnawed at your chest, eating your heart whole to the point you felt as though the only thing keeping you alive were your rational survival instincts. You moved through your tasks with mechanical precision - but you weren't living in the moment. Your mind was trapped in the abyss while your body functioned on routine.

Your team noticed. They were always tuned into your emotions as if they sensed your fragile state was approaching. Simon would furrow his brows with a concerned frown as he watched you get too carried away in a kill - how you would shoot the enemy atleast three more times when he had already collapsed to the ground, dead. He watched you as you seemed to throw yourself into danger - only narrowly avoiding fatal shots. Subconsciously or consciously, he couldn't tell.

Price would notice how you drowned yourself in paperwork, your hand signing off checkboxes and note tabs until you couldn't feel it anymore. You would take workloads that weren't even yours until you fell asleep into a restless state at your desk. And yet, you put on a guise that would fool less perceptive soldiers into thinking you're okay. That you're being a generous teammate who's taking other's load so they didn't struggle with it.

You would still go on your runs with Kyle, but you kept going long after he stopped. You kept going until you were on the brink of both collapse and dehydration. He had to practically pull rank on you - despite the fact you were both sergeants - and force a bottle of water down your throat. The whole time you remained expressionless even though a war was raging in your heart. Oh, Kyle. He was just looking out for you, wasn't he?

So why did it make you feel worse?

Your final straw was when Johnny cornered you in a hallway you stumbled into. It was empty, desolate, isolated. Your pistol lay thrown on the ground after Johnny smacked it out of your hand with a desperate urgency. You were expecting him to demand an explanation, a reason as to why you'd stoop this low. He would demand you to stay with him, with the team and--

He hugged you.

He didn't probe. He didn't make you explain. He just....Hugged you.

You didn't realize the weight that's been on your shoulders until it was gone, and that's when the dam holding your tears and feelings and everything else broke. You hugged him back and sobbed into his shoulder, knees collapsing as he carefully led you to the concrete floor.

He pulled you against him as if he were not to ever let you go again, his hand tangling in your hair and massaging your scalp as your shoulders wracked with never-ending sobs. No words were spoken from him as you repeated "I'm sorry I'm so sorry please forgive me I didn't mean to" like a mantra.

You didn't need words from him. All you needed was to be seen. You needed to be heard and to be held and to get out of this dark chasm you've stumbled into. You needed a ladder, a rope -- something.

And Johnny gave you that.

You didn't hear the others approach, but you certainly felt their arms embrace you as if shielding you from the world. You felt Kyle rub your back and Simon squeezing you as if he couldn't bear losing you. You felt Price rest his head atop yours and Johnny pull them all closer in a messy, far from perfect, group hug.

You were one of them, and they wouldn't let you forget that.

reader w/ disabilities interacting with the 141!

Simon

The explosion had been nasty. Your leg had been blown off and the rest of your body was heavily burned to the point you barely looked like yourself. After waking up in so much pain, you felt like screaming. They should've just let you die. You weren't yourself. You were a monster.

The prosthetic you were hastily given while they made you a custom one was.. horrible. You had to learn how to walk again - how to live again.

While on supervised rest, Simon had heard you beg in your dreams to let you die. The mumbled "please let me go let me die please I don't want to live like this" a repeated mantra that plagued your dreams.

Simon knew a thing or two about being mutilated, burned, scarred - and he would promise himself to take care of you.

When you finally got your fitted prosthetic leg, he held your hand - figuratively and literally - throughout the process of getting used to walking again. Then running, then jumping, then so on. He helped you fight again. He helped you use your leg as an advantage.

You couldn't feel it? Great. Kick the shit out of your enemy. He'll feel it.

He would massage your shoulders and neck in the quiet moments where you stare off into existence like you're not fully there. He would hold you when you sob about not being able to feel anymore. He was there when you had moments of PTSD when one of Johnny's explosives went off a little too close for comfort.

You learned a lot about Simon. About his past, about.. everything. It made him feel less unreachable and more human.

On the last day you were required to be under medical attention, Simon pressed a small but meaningful kiss to the crown of your head. He had murmured: "you did it, love." and then he left you alone with the gravity of your achievement.

Kyle

You were hard of hearing, which wasn't too bad for you in combat. You didn't need noise-cancelling headphones or stuff like that. You didn't flinch at explosions or gunfire or loud aircrafts overhead.

But it was a struggle in day-to-day life.

Kyle would try to get your attention while you munched on a sandwich in the corner of the mess hall, practically yelling his ass off and still you couldn't hear.

But what he didn't know, you had been given hearing aids from Johnny after he convinced the medical staff to order you some. That being said, you could hear Kyle perfectly fine and chose to ignore him.

One recruit in passing tapped your shoulder and pointed to Kyle, and you looked up and followed his gesture. There Kyle was, screaming his heart out at you, and you pretended you couldn't hear him.

"What?" you would yell back.

"I said, give me back my hoodie!" Kyle replied, hands cupping his mouth as if that would do anything.

"What??" You repeated, expertly hiding the smirk on your face with the sandwich.

Let's just say he ended up stomping over to you and dragging you by the ear like a grandma to make you give him his hoodie back.

Price

Suffering with fibromyalgia ruined your life. Constantly fatigued, always in pain, all of it with no relief.

Because it wasn't something that's "visible", it's often discounted as you being "too lazy" or "dramatic" when everything you experience is ten times worse than a bullet through your body.

So you've decided to just... shut up about it.

They can't see it, so why should you express the discomfort you're in. Everyone thinks you're lying, anyways.

But then Price confronts you. He's seen the way you wince when you think nobody's watching. How you massage your wrists and roll your shoulders for almost five minutes but to what looks like no avail. How you flinch at loud noises and how you constantly doze off in the corner of the rec room.

He himself suffers with chronic pain - albeit not the kind you're used to. As he gets older, the stereotypical "old man pain" places start to hurt. But he pushes through, because a captain can't be weak. Can't be vulnerable.

One day, he comes up to you and just... hugs you. He lets you feel seen without the words, without the explaining. He holds you tighter, a silent "I see you, you're so strong" in the gesture.

Johnny

You, with a heart disease, should NOT be participating in an energy drink chugging contest. As soon as he heard your voice amongst the clamoring of the recruits, Johnny rushed over and ripped the drink out of your hand.

"The fuck is wrong with ye?" he scolded with a glare that told all the recruits to scram. "You could die from this, ye know."

You, in return, roll your eyes. "I know my limits." You didn't. You just wanted to feel included - wanted to feel normal. Johnny looked you over once and shook his head. He pulled you closer and rested his head atop yours.

"It's my job to look after ye, and I can't do that if you're willingly throwing yourself into a state where your heart'll act up." Patting your shoulder, he let go of you. Upon seeing your pout, he smiled reassuringly.

"I'm not telling you to stop, love, I'm telling you to tone it down, aye?" Johnny then walked away after ruffling your hair.

Watching the fireworks with them

Happy New Year everyone! <3

New Years' Day was one of the few days the base relaxed into something less tense and more.. mundane. Fatigues were tossed to the side, and the sweatpants with loose t-shirts came out of the duffel bags.

By the time the day faded into night, you, Johnny, and Kyle dragged Price and Simon out from their offices and into the crowd of soldiers and secretary alike. The recruits had managed to get their hands on fireworks, much to Johnny's delight and Simon's dismay.

You all sat on the roof of one of the storage sheds, your legs dangling off the side carelessly as you all focused on the recruits' countdown until the New Year.

Ten.

Johnny nudged your shoulder excitedly as he pointed to the recruits setting up the fireworks.

Nine.

Simon rested his chin in his hand, a smile crossing his face for the first time that night.

Eight.

Price lit a cigar and let out a billow of smoke before offering you one. You turned it down, too focused on watching each of the recruits buzz with energy.

Seven.

Kyle rested back on his hands, preparing the Polaroid camera he brought with him.

Six.

You cracked a few glowsticks and handed one to each of your teammates. Blue for Johnny, orange for Kyle, green for Price, and reddish-pink for Simon.

Five.

Johnny and Kyle each whooped and hollered at the recruits to start lighting the colorful explosives.

Four.

Simon reached over and playfully snatched your glowstick, holding it out of your reach despite your efforts to get it back.

Three.

Price sent Simon a half-hearted glare, silently telling his lieutenant to play nice.

Two.

You all fell silent with suspense, up at where the sky would burst with color.

One.

Fireworks shot off into the skies, everyone holding their breath, then boom!

"Happy New Year!!" Everyone would cheer, smiles plastered on their faces as they celebrated and basked in the glory of the moment. Kyle wrapped an arm around your shoulder and ruffled your hair while Johnny hopped down from the shed to join the recruits celebrating.

Price and Simon overlooked it all with proud expressions that they had made it this far - throughout everything. The night ended in celebration, prideful cheers and pats on the backs.

Tonight was beautiful, and you'd all do it all again next year.

Reader who sketches their teammates but is too nervous to show them; said teammate proceeds to snoop and discovers a masterpiece

Kyle finds you curled in the corner of the rec room with what looks like to be a sketchbook hugged up to your chest. Your pen or pencil - whatever you were using, he couldn't tell - glided across the page with what looked like effortless ease.

As he approached, you immediately closed the book. "Don't look!" You protest weakly as you stand up and hold onto your sketchbook for dear life. Kyle raises his hands in a form of surrender.

"Okay, okay! Sorry, squirt." he tries to sooth you, but you huff and stomp away with a flustered expression.

That night, Kyle decides to snoop. He grabs your sketchbook and opens it to the dog-eared page. A portrait of himself stares back at him. You drew him.

It was far from perfect, but it was you. Every stroke of your pen, every mistake - it was all you. You drew him because you wanted to - because you found inspiration in him.

He went to sleep that night with a smile on his face and planning out how to get you all the tools you need to improve.

Simon sat next to you in the humvee, eyes glancing over at your sketchbook. He's seen you bring it everywhere you go, and today was no different.

You haven't clocked him staring yet, but you have glanced over at his features a few times. Peering over your shoulder, a messy sketch of Simon stares back at him. He thinks it's beautiful - even though his one eye is scribbled out in a frustrated response to imperfection.

He smiled to himself - something he rarely does - and he rested his hand on your thigh in silent encouragement. He could see your cheeks flush, but you didn't stop your sketching.

In fact, you draw a little heart in the corner of the page for his eyes only.

Price and Johnny were walking together after sitting with you in the mess, you having drawn something on two seperate pages of your notebook. They both decided to check it out, as you were practically staring at them both the whole time.

Quietly opening the door to your quarters, Johnny murmured: "aye, I see it." Your sketchbook, wide open on your bed for the world to see. Price walks over and examines the pages, but his eyes soften when he registers it's him and Johnny.

"Our bird drew us," Price had murmured with a smile. He picked up the sketchbook and showed Johnny. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Johnny nodded and leaned in closer to examine the pages. Imperfect, but so was everything in this world. What mattered was the effort.

After that, Johnny and Price would gift you new pens and notepads almost monthly.

The moral of the story is: everyone is learning and growing. Nobody is perfect. As someone who struggles with perfectionism, it pains me to see others get accused of either tracing, using AI, or copying others' work. Especially when they're close friends of mine.

Reminder: referencing isn't tracing. For us newer writers out there: em-dashes are a real thing. Just because you see one doesn't mean that AI generated it.

When drawing, yes: it will look wrong at first. It will look messy. It will look flat-out stupid at times. But that's the amazing thing about being human - we see these mistakes and we grow from them. We learn, we thrive. So what if you have to use a reference? Most professionals use references. It's normal - it's natural.

I will not tolerate mindless souls who shit on beginner artists and writers for no fucking reason. This is why people are discouraged from doing what they love. If you are one of these people - kindly unfollow me. You are not welcome here.

reader who acts like a cat

bonus if reader isn't even a solider, just someone they picked up off the streets that's too cat-brained to be on their own so the 141 are all caretakers

Inspired by bread so have headcanons of each of the 141 baking bread w/ u

Simon

Johnny

Kyle

Price

"You're With Us, Now"

It wasn't a secret that you never requested leave. It was quite noticeable you're the only soldier to ever stay on base, and nobody sees you packing your things along with everyone else.

That time was coming around again where everyone began filing their leave papers and packing their things. As always, you would stay in your room. Sharing a wall with Simon meant that he was quiet and wouldn't bother you, which you appreciated.

That being said, it scared the absolute shit out of you when he burst into your room with Johnny on his heels holding a piece of paper.

"Hold 'er down." Was all you registered from Johnny as Simon wrangled and manhandled you so you couldn't move. Next thing you knew, Johnny was shoving a pen into your hand and bringing it to the papers.

Johnny proceeded to forge your signature on the papers, no matter how much you struggled against Simon and protested to Johnny. Once the sergeant got what he wanted, he let out a whoop and proceeded to bolt out of your room and straight to Price's office.

You stared after him in dismay as Simon slowly untangled himself from you and stood off to the side. "You need to get out of the base, Sergeant. We're takin' you to our shared place." he said while patting your shoulder. You groaned in return, rubbing your hands down your face.

After being forced to pack - supervised by Price and Kyle - you now sat in between Johnny and Kyle, the two sergeants arguing over your head as you tried to shrink into the seat of Price's truck.

"Lighten up, Sergeant!" Kyle suddenly turned his attention to you. "You'll like it. Trust me."

Johnny nodded along with Kyle and threw an arm around your shoulder. "You'll like the part where it's silent and nobody can bother you out here," he corrected with a light smile.

You nodded, turning your gaze out the front window where snow now began to fall. Price turned up the radio, some old Christmas song echoing throughout the truck and rattling your bones.

The sounds of chatter faded into the back as you took in the domestic-ness of the scene. Snow falling, your team chatting without a care - you could feel your cheeks tighten in a smile.

Once you all arrived at the cabin, you got yourselves situated and now you sat on the porch with your team. The snow fell calmly around the property, and you realize - maybe you've been missing out. You tell Price that you'd like to stay here more often, and he responds:

"You're with us, now. You're always welcome here."

Welcome back friend 🙏 hehe I love this!! This is gonna be short since I'm rlly busy lately but here's a tiny blurb for reference :3

You've been living with these humans for what seems like forever now. They treat you well, and they give you food and a place to live. But for some reason, they still hadn't gotten used to your sleeping positions.

Let's look at a few examples, shall we?

Kyle was going about his business, working on some 'housecleaning' around the base when he saw you. Practically lifeless, upside-down in one of the corners of the rec room. As an unofficial pet of the 141's naturally Kyle would panic.

Running over to you muttering 'no no no no no' under his breath, Kyle crouched down and picked up your limp body and began to poke and prod at you.

About two seconds passed when you showed you were, in fact, alive - then promptly bit him.

Kyle flinched back, rubbing his hand where your bite had landed. "Bloody hell! I was just making sure you weren't dead, you ungrateful freeloader."

He proceeded to mumble and grumble under his breath for the next hour.

Price found you underneath his desk in the little dog bed he got you. You were twisted at an unnatural angle that didn't seem healthy even in the slightest, so he crouched down and gently shook your little shoulder.

"Ay, wake up." he was told by some other soldiers that ferrets were more flexible and slinky than most animals, but if this was the flexible they were talking about, then he was certainly caught off-guard.

You woke up with a disgruntled noise and glared at him before resuming your nap, completely unbothered by him.

Price shrugged and continued his paperwork, making a mental note for later.

Johnny found you on his pillow of all places. You weren't necessarily asleep, he could tell, as your one eye was open and watching him as he made his way towards your little throne on his pillow.

"Move," he muttered, lightly shifting the pillow in hopes you'd get annoyed and leave.

All you did was hiss at him in return.

Johnny narrowed his eyes, and grabbed your wiggly body in his hands and chucked you into the pile of blankets opposite his bed. You emerged two seconds later with a noticeable glare that soon faded when you realized the blanket pile was much comfier to lay on.

But of course, a recruit passing by only saw Johnny throwing you across the room, so in the next hour he was sitting infront of Price explaining himself while Price looked at him with exasperated amusement.

Simon found you on the floor of the storage closet, all twisted up and somehow still looking comfortable. Being more observant than his sergeants, he knew you were sleeping - although that didn't prevent the momentary panic he had when it looked like you weren't even breathing.

Carefully crouching down to your level, he gently pulled you into his arms as he layed on his back and brought you onto his chest. He stroked your fur and occasionally massaged your back with tender fingers.

Johnny found you two about three or four hours later, both asleep. Johnny would've laughed if it wasn't for the genuine look of calmness over Simon's face.

Let's just say he came back with a blanket and draped it over the two of you.

I LOVE CHINCHILLAS SM WJDVSBJS YES.HEEHEHEHEHHE 💚 have chinchilla hybrid!reader defending dust baths and the sergeants + simon help

The 141 couldn't complain about having a chinchilla hybrid on their team. Most of their operations were at night which fit perfectly with you being nocturnal, and your legs provided you with extra strength to leap and climb onto places your team could not. For you, having a team was also beneficial as you could consider them your herd. Your little family.

That being said, your herd still had to get used to your quirks.

You were found outside by Price rolling around in dirt and gunpowder squeaking happily. Your captain raised an eyebrow at you and frowned. "What the hell are you doing, Sergeant?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

You paused in your activities and stared up at him from the ground. "..Bathing?" you say as if the answer was obvious. "There's not really any dust, so dirt and gunpowder seem to do fine."

Price pinched his nose and sighed. "The showers. You know those? Use them." he muttered as if he was a father tired of his child's shenanigans. You frowned and got up, brushing off your gear.

"Chinchillas use dust to bathe, Captain. You should know that. You literally have my file." You point out with a huff. Simon, who was cleaning his gun a few meters away, chimed in.

"Let 'em do what's best, Cap. A hybrid knows their body better than anyone." Simon shrugged as he returned back to his task at hand. Johnny and Kyle then ran over to you with buckets of dust they got god knows where and dumped them on you.

"Here ye go, love." Johnny chuckled as he noticed you began to roll around in the dust. Kyle smiled as well before looking at Price and shrugging.

"Bugger's one of the best additions to the team, Cap," he said pointing to you. "Let 'em have a dust bath. It's in their nature and we shouldn't judge."

Price looked at you for a few moments, contemplating something before waving you off and returning back to his office.

What you didn't know, was that Price spent the whole evening studying your hybrid type and ordering things to contribute to your needs.

Woa I've never known wood frogs do that :O that's rlly cool hehe // sorry if I misinterpret anything!

You were a very well-known wood frog shifter that inhabited the woods surrounding the base. You would often show up, exchange a few words or even bring cool gun-shaped twigs as gifts. So when Simon found you shifted in a corner, not moving at all? Of course he'd panic!

Gently picking you up, he felt you were ice cold. Shit. In his mind, he pictured you crawling for shelter when your system slowed you down from the cold.

Barging into the medical bay, Kyle and Johnny looked up sharply upon his entrance. A few days ago, the two had been in an accident regarding a grenade mishap, and had to spend the next few days resting and under doctor's care. Price also happened to be there, keeping both of his sergeants company (probably against his will).

Lightly setting you onto a heated blanket that Johnny was using, he grabbed a stethoscope and pressed it to your tiny body.

No heartbeat.

No breathing.

No nothing.

"Fuck." He muttered, resting his forehead against your back. The rest of the team went to crowd around you, frowning. They had taken a liking to you, actually. Thought of you almost as their shared kid even though you were probably a grown adult.

As if it were some sort of honorary thing, Kyle pulled the blanket up to cover your body as if you were dead.

About ten minutes of them silently grieving they saw the blanket shift and you emerge with a small croak. You were perfectly unharmed. Johnny outright gasped, wiping his cheeks as if he totally wasn't crying. Price put his hat back on with an awkward cough while Kyle and Simon kind-of just stared at you blankly.

After you shifted back into your human form, you were covered in a large hoodie and sweats you stole from the team.

"It's normal..?" You explain to them with a confused tilt of your head. "It's how my body preserves itself during winter. I wasn't dead."

Simon had let out an audible sigh of relief from your statement, glad that when he picked you up it wasn't your dead body.

From then on let's just say the boys are too paranoid to let you do it again, so they offer you to stay on base with them.

This is when I learn woodchucks and groundhogs are the same thing 🙏🙏 have hybrid reader who scares the shit out of the team with hibernation

As a woodchuck hybrid, you figured your team already knew about your hibernation. Price had a whole file on you that described how you were diurnal, used whistles to communicate distress, and so forth. But to your surprise, nothing was mentioned about hibernation.

That would explain why Kyle freaked out when you were caught in a deep sleep with barely any pulse to you. It would also explain how he didn't think twice before shaking you awake.

Time skip to now in the medical bay, heaters all around you and medics trying to make you eat and drink fluids to make up for the stress of being forcefully woken from your hibernation. Price did a little more digging on your kind of hybrid, and it's normal for hibernation to occur and highly dangerous for you to be waken from it unnaturally.

Kyle would apologize profusely, but you swatted him away with a kind smile and a reassurance. Simon and Johnny would help with readjusting the heaters to help your body warm back up without spending calories. You couldn't be mad at your team - they didn't know, after all! You still loved them either way.

But they still asked you if you could tell if spring was coming early or not, which borderline pissed you off. You weren't even on this team for a year and they were still coming up with new things to bother you about.

Just woke up and already giggling kicking my feet (whenever that brainrot comes back please hit me with it I need more.) I'm also gonna make a possie masterlist at this point LMAOO

You would never stop despising the humans for stomping around and yelling and whining and all that shit you have to deal with on a daily basis.

But.

You weren't going to complain about the free food the one with the ugly furcut and the creepy one gave you. Free food was free food. Plus, they probably saw you now as their ruler. Even better for you, in fact. They'll bow down to you in a couple weeks, you reckon.

You now were able to move freely amongst the room you resided in. All you would get is a nervous glance here or one of the humans pointing one of their weird appendages there. They saw you as intimidating. You could tell in the way they made room for you when you walked, and even gave you offerings as you were going along your day to day life.

Good, you thought. Let them know their place.

The human you shared your room with left a path up to his bed. You figure you'd check it out as you've never seen up there before. When you got up there, your little feet carried you into the middle of his sleeping area and holy shit. This was luxury sleeping material.

Laying flat on your back with your legs spread like a starfish, you dozed off almost immediately - a leg occasionally twitching to whatever you dreamed of.

Johnny walked into his room after a long day of managing not to piss both you and Price off. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead from running down the hall to escape into the sweet confines of his room. But when he got to his room he stopped dead in his tracks.

You were sleeping soundly on his bed.

"Simon?" Johnny knocked on the door opposite of his, desperately trying to reach his lieutenant. Simon answered the door with a glare, but it immediately softened when it came to rest upon Johnny. "Possie's in my bed."

Fast forward to now, where all of the team surrounded the bed and looked upon your peaceful sleeping form. You seemed to not care you were in Johnny's bed by the way you looked so comfortable - or maybe you knew and this was your next step at taking over the base.

But none of them would make a move to wake you up. Four large and intimidating soldiers were scared of a hamster. But to be fair - that hamster was you.

"That's Possie's bed, now," Kyle huffed out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. Price nodded in agreement while Simon crossed his arms.

Another fast forward to where they got you a dog bed - comfortable enough but also something you yourself can have so you don't take anymore of the guy's things. They would catch you walking down the halls with your little feet as if you knew you weren't going to be hurt.

They'd be in the middle of a conference and you would trot in one door and out the other. It's become a common occurrence to the point the other soldiers on base know not to mess with you.

You were asserting your dominance, just as you should.