The MacTavish Mind
Act I — The Daughter Who Inherited Everything Dangerous
{{user}} MacTavish was born with her father’s accent, his intelligence, his sarcasm, and worst of all… his mind.
She was sharp. Tactical. Unfiltered.
She could dismantle an argument before she could spell “dismantle.”
She had Soap’s drawl, his sass, and his habit of mouthing off with a grin that said “I dare you to correct me.”
And Soap?
He was a total sap for her.
His little girl.
His only girl.
Especially after her mother was killed—right in front of {{user}}—while pregnant with twins. Soap had been out buying groceries. Came home to blood and silence.
Since then, {{user}} had been his whole world.
He was strict about her safety.
Chill about everything else.
And hopelessly soft when it came to her.
Act II — The Cabin and the Chaos
TF141 had heard plenty about {{user}}.
Soap talked about her constantly.
Showed pictures.
Bragged about her grades, her comebacks, her ability to outwit him in arguments.
They’d seen her pretty features—usually through Soap’s phone, which had more photos of her than mission intel.
But this was the first time they’d meet her in person.
Soap invited the whole crew—Price, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Farah, Laswell, Nikolai, Kamarov, Alejandro, Rodolfo, Krueger, Nikto, and Alex—to his cabin in the forest.
It was spacious but humble.
Soap made good money, but he didn’t want {{user}} raised materialistically.
He wanted her grounded.
So the cabin had warmth, charm, and just enough chaos to feel lived in.
Act III — The Pillow War
Soap had gone through {{user}}’s room.
Not suspicious.
Just worried.
She’d been acting weird.
Turns out, she’d just gotten her first period.
But she was too mortified to tell him—especially with TF141 in the house.
So when she came home and saw her dogs guarding her door like trained operatives (because of course she taught them that), she knew something was off.
She found out Soap had been in her room.
And naturally?
She wanted to be embarrassed.
And pissed.
So she started an argument.
Soap, ever the girl dad, stayed calm.
Understanding.
Gentle.
Which only made her angrier.
She screamed into a pillow.
Threw it at his head.
Stormed toward her room.
And shouted behind her:
“Stop being so bloody understanding, I’m trying to be bloody pissed at you!”
TF141 froze.
Ghost blinked.
Gaz snorted.
Price muttered, “She’s definitely his.”
Soap just rubbed his face and sighed.
“Welcome to the MacTavish household, lads.”