#[ @shmalk ]

[shmalk]

ghost has no idea what to make of you. you show up out of nowhere, barely a day after price announces that they have an extra addition on their team for the next mission, and then you show up.

you're nothing like them - you probably haven't seen a man get shot, never felt your bones break and have to set them yourself in a fight. he has this sick fantasy of breaking you, wiping that stupid smile off your face and watching you crumple as he breaks your spine with one hand.

soap loves having you on base, you're good with a gun and you'll joke with him about almost anything - sure, you never come out to the pub with them, but whenever they come back to base you've cooked something and that's better than any pint of beer johnny's ever had.

he's worried, he thinks you wont make it out there - beside them. you're small, and not in the sense that you're short, in the sense that there's barely anything to you, nothing to grab if you trip in the middle of active fire.

gaz is just finally glad to have someone else to talk to, to complain about soap and ghost to, rant about how price pissed him off. you're always willing to talk, which is probably a good thing.

he always turns down his radio whenever you're on a mission together, he doesn't want to hear you die, or hear your voice trail off as you get caught. he has to bite his knuckle whenever you speak out of fear.

price is sick of it, sick of watching the boys play with you like a doll and then sit you delicately back on the shelf, so he takes matters into his own hands and shoots you between the eyes.

you sit up four minutes later.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

i just rlly like the idea of immortal!reader but the guys have no idea and suspect nothing until they get shot in the head and then just,,, get back up !

[twisted-bee]

new gender. shmalk

[eclecticmiasma]

Anything for yandere!Joseph? I barely find any fics for him and am starving for content,,thanks 🥺💗

SFW

[Warnings: general yandere scariness, stalking, manipulation]

Joseph

A slow-burn yandere, the type of man that you don’t realize is poison before he’s coursing through your veins. 

On the surface, Joseph Joestar is an absolute buffoon. Those around him wonder how he can even put his socks on without fucking it up somehow. 

But everyone can agree that what he lacks in intelligence he makes up for with razor sharp cunning. What Joseph wants, Joseph gets. 

And what Joseph wants is you. 

He will follow you throughout your days and won’t even see what’s wrong with it. Caesar might mention that it’s technically called “stalking”, but psh. Stalking-shmalking. 

He’s so charming and harmless that you don’t even mind seeing him throughout the city. It’s cute, you think, how affectionate he is toward you. 

He’ll make you feel safe by walking you home at night. It doesn’t occur to you to question how he knows your address. It’s nice to have someone so concerned for your well-being. 

Joseph has a myriad of ways to scare off any men that might otherwise talk to you, even if those men happen to be your own family members. Something about a hulking, 6′5″ man with an electrified Tommy Gun doesn’t sit right with many people. 

Similar to Hol Horse, he is fiercely protective of the one he loves. Even if that means manipulating them to stay with him by any means necessary, or outright getting rid of anyone who might otherwise get in his way. He truly believes his actions are for the greater good and safety of his darling. 

Unlike Hol Horse, Joseph won’t hesitate to put you in your place. 

Joseph is incredibly sensitive, as much as he likes to play off that he isn’t. He changes temperaments at the drop of a hat. While he’s mostly jovial and easygoing, his negative emotions are quick to flare and all-consuming. 

When your inner turmoil becomes too much and you attempt to distance yourself from him, Joseph will be there to put an end to it. 

Young Joseph won’t hesitate to use Hamon to keep you by his side, while Old Joseph has no problem physically binding you with Hermit Purple.  

*all original work is my intellectual property. do not edit or re-upload.

[otterknowbynow]

Altean Home Economics (8/?)

Goo is great, but Hunk sure would feel better if they had kitchen access. all chapters in this tag | ao3 link in reblogs

"Did we decide this was baking soda or something?" Keith asks, passing a foil-wrapped block into Pidge’s  field of vision. 

"I mean, ideally we'd run that through the spectrometer in the lab and figure out its chemical formula like with the others, but I'm pretty sure it's something like that -- there’s a list of steps on the back here, see?" She points to the text, numbered with Altean numerals, and Keith nods seriously. 

“Okay, what am I looking at?” 

“Well, a lot of it I’m not sure what it says, but there’s a verb here that means ‘to rise,’ so it seems likely that it’s some kind of leavening, but like I said, I’d feel a lot more comfortable if I took it to the lab.”   

"Hm," Hunk says, and pinches off a small piece of the chalky stuff, rubbing it between his fingers until it's all dissolved into powder. “You want to add a sample of it to your pile, Pidge? I’ll keep the rest here.” She narrows her eyes, suspicious. 

“What are you going to do with it?” she asks. Hunk shrugs at her. 

“I’m going to put it in some batter and see what happens when I cook it,” he says. “Seems like that’ll tell us pretty quickly whether it’s some kind of rising agent or not.” 

“I mean, I guess,” she says. “As long as you don’t actually eat any of it until I get back with some answers.” 

“How stupid do you think I am?” Hunk says indignantly. 

Keith leans around him to add, “I’ll keep an eye on him.” 

“Thanks,” she says, pointedly ignoring Hunk’s face as she adds some scrapings of the block to an empty one of the tiny containers she’s been collecting samples in. She gathers up the pile in front of her -- a stack of a dozen or so little boxes -- and heads out to the door, nearly colliding with Coran and Lance as it slides open to reveal them on the other side. She lets out a startled yelp as the topmost container topples off the stack, only to see Coran’s hand shoot out to catch it before it hits the floor. 

“Ah, apologies, Number Five,” he says, offering it back to her. “And where are you off to with what appears to be half my spice cupboard?” 

“The lab,” she says as she tucks the fallen sample back on top of its fellows. “I need to run some tests and see what these are -- and most importantly if they’re safe for human consumption.” 

“Oh, nice!” Lance says excitedly. “Did you find any eggs?” Pidge blinks at him. 

“I mean, no,” she says. “At least, not unless they’re the eggs of something nearly microscopic.” 

“Fair,” he says, screwing up his brows and nodding. “I’ll keep an eye out.” 

“Alright, well, carry on, Number Five, I’m just here to help explain to Lance how the querlays work!” 

“Querlays?” she asks -- if she remembers properly, that’s an Altean word for..device, appliance, something of that kind, though it’s more specialized, and she’s not surprised the translator doesn’t seem to bother trying to put it into English. Coran gestures enthusiastically to the side of the kitchen that’s full of machinery and grins. 

“Just another way the castle’s design is remarkable, we’ve got more than enough technology here to make a feast that would satisfy a choferiak! Not that we’ve ever had occasion to, to my knowledge,” he adds this last conspiratorially, half-covering his mouth with one hand, though he hasn’t lowered the volume of his voice at all. Before Pidge can ask for a more detailed description of a choferiak, she hears a familiar trill and feels something bump into the back of her shoulder, turning to find --

“Turing!” she says, delighted to see the caterpillar, even if it is several decks away from where it probably should be. “Where did you find it?” She scratches it below its chin, looking to the others for answers. 

“Oh, he’s yours? He followed me to the bridge. We had words,” Lance finishes darkly, frowning. 

“Uh, okay?” Pidge doesn’t have the time to get into all that. “You do know it can’t talk, right?” 

“Talk, shmalk, he knows what he did.” 

“Why -- never mind,” she says, shaking her head. Lance deciding Turing is a “he” is not a priority right now. “I’ll take it back with me on my way to the lab. I usually try to at least keep them on the deck near the living quarters, so they don’t get lost.” 

“There are more of those?” 

“Well, yeah,” Pidge says, cradling the samples all in one arm so she can tuck Turing under her other one. “I’ve got three of them.” 

“Are the others nicer?” 

“Um,” she starts, but she’s saved from answering what’s an absurd question even by Lance standards by Coran, who claps him on the shoulder and moves both of them out of the doorway. 

“I thought we were on a mission, Number Four,” he says, gesturing toward the kitchen as a whole. “Something about pancakes and saving Hunk’s life? Though I have to say, I don’t really understand that last bit, since last I checked there’s nothing lethal in here!” 

Pidge ducks into the hallway before she can process Lance’s response, juggling samples and caterpillar, grateful that the door slides shut automatically behind her. 

[silverwolf1977]

Walk, Shmalk. NAP! #ladyclarisse #ladyclarissebycamembertdeporgmorningstarofalphacentauri #sundaysarefornaps https://www.instagram.com/p/CU3T6y3haPl/?utm_medium=tumblr

[ask-morioh-duo]

“Psawh” he waved a hand “walk shmalk! Plus Akatori has been forci-uh, helping me work out! So this will be like to test my progress!” Honestly...Midori asked his friend to be his gym buddy because he started to really wanted to get muscle like Sumi

Sumi is once again hanging around outside class 1-A at the end of the school day, albeit a bit more nervously this time.

It is time to make some cool shoes.

[@daily-rubbersoul-redux]

“Oi! Sumi!” A hearty laugh echos from the room as Midori practically sprints out

@daily-rubbersoul-redux

[shmalk]

141 is filled with alphas, not a single omega in sight. there are a few betas, but they're either low-ranking or transfers that were never going to last.

like you! (beta!reader) who works at reception and takes calls, scans badges and is the first point of contact for the task force.

none of them know your name, none of them even speak to you - maybe price, when you transfer a call to him, he'll mumble a thank you. or even laswell, when you bring her a coffee.

it's nothing, really, you don't mind.

only, one day, a totally normal friday, you've done the exact same style in your hair you always have, and you're wearing more clothes than you were yesterday.

price wants a coffee, sure- you make it, just the way he likes, and head towards his office. you knock, and wait a few seconds until you hear 'come in.'

the office is silent, it usually is - but this time there's more than just price inside.

they're finishing up just as you enter, soap and gaz sitting in front of the desk whilst ghost leant against the back wall.

"my apologies, captain." your voice isn't exactly quiet - why should it be, you've done nothing wrong, but its still respectful. price just nods as you place the cup down on his desk.

"thanks, that's all." he dismisses everyone in the room, and you wait for the boys to file out before you do, soap and gaz both giving you a cheeky smile.

ghost is the one to hold open the door, standing just adjacent to the doorway with his arm sprawled against it. its a heavy door, and you swallow as you pass him.

"thank you," you all but mumble out as you rush past him - straight into the break room.

you can't help but rant about the situation to your roommate whilst you're packing up your things, your phone tucked between your jaw and shoulder.

"i mean- he held the door open for me and i couldn't even look him in the eye to say thank you!" you stress, throwing your bag into your passenger seat before leaning back against your car. "god, all i wan't right now is a plate of sushi and some boba."

"too bad its pizza night, dweeb."

"thats not fair! i could loose my job, i should be allowed to eat my comfort food when im stressed out."

you stress about it over the whole weekend, and when you return back to work on monday you try to act as casual as possible. of course, you don't see ghost - price doesn't order a coffee, and youre break time comes around quicker than you expected.

you had brought- oh, theres- your favourite sushi, and a boba drink sitting where your food was supposed to be. in somewhat messy hand writing, on a small piece of paper, theres your name.

signed ' s. riley. '

i am a sucker for sweet lil moments like this !!

in my head i think that simon would like a beta, or an alpha, but in this lil snippet (which is CERTAINLY getting turned into a fic) he's big and broad and gets worried when he's with alphas because they can't think straight, he tells them what to do and he does it.

but you? you dont react to his scent or chase him down to get him to court you - so, of fource, he courts you. <3

[shmalk]

Could you write the second half of what happens after price shoots immortal!reader? I love this idea, it makes me think of the Old Guard on netflix :D

you're dead.

that's the only thing any of them think, all of them shocked as they watch price holster his weapon and lean back against the post. he checks his watch, one that was practically glued to the inside of his wrist, and takes a puff of his cigar.

its almost a minute before any of them move - and gaz is first, throwing himself onto the ground beside you, pulling you into his arms and trying to pick you up off the ground.

there's too much blood, and he can't seem to lift you - were you always that heavy?

soap is slow, stuttering his feet until he reaches gaz, glancing down at the scene. your hair is mattered and tangled, covered in dust and now your own blood. your eyes are wide open and holding contact with the sky, no sneaking glances towards him or even a slight wink - you're dead.

simon is the only one who focuses on price - storming his way up to him, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off the ground. he's confused, scared, for once, he doesn't know anything. did you betray them? did price?

despite knowing the inner turmoil inside his task force's head, price can't help but bark out a laugh, patting on ghost's hands to get the man to drop him.

soap retreats at that, joining ghost as the two of them demand answers - all but promising to take him into the interrogation room and demand he tell the truth.

gaz has to step away to vomit, your blood is warm and it's dripping - but he can feel it moving, he knows its not real and he's imagining it, hoping you'll turn to face him and scream about it being a prank. but you wont - you're dead.

only, you're not dead, and you can't help but groan as your eyes come back into focus, your arms feel like led - but you're able to lift one to cover your eyes from staring up at the sun.

you cough a few times, and push yourself up onto your elbow. you hate getting shot, it was a horrible feeling and you never liked loosing that much blood - but price had done it once (after you'd all but demanded he do it) and now he liked the shock factor.

glancing around, you take note of ghost, holding price by his shirt against a pole, and soap holding a large metal pole, threating to beat him over the head. all of three of them have turned to stare at you as you rise from the dead.

gaz is beside you, frozen in place in the middle of wiping his face free from bile.

"sorry for getting shot in the head, you guys."

a few people asked for a continuation !! sorry if this isn't the best, had a long day at work today and the weather in aus is c r az y !!

[shmalk]

soulamte!au except its the pictures, and they show up randomly on the body.

simon was lucky enough that the small symbol - ironically, a bar of soap, appeared on his left wrist when he turned eighteen.

johnny? not so lucky. the small ghost appeared just behind his elbow, he couldn't see it until he had a medical check when he joined the military.

of course they meet- and the symbols turn red instead, signalling that they've met and the fall happily in love.

one of them - or maybe both - get badly hurt and end up in the infirmiry. it doesn't matter much, but they both get a check up. somehow, they both have a mark that they missed.

its a hand, almost small enough to be a strange birthmark, but its there - and its on both of them.

you never got your mark, maybe you did, but you'd never be able to tell considering the metal arm you had connected to you - you were sure that your soulmates mark was on your wrist, and unfortunately, that was gone.

johnny and simon are determined to find you - well, most of you at least.

do we like this idea... i will turn it into a fic rn don't temp me

[shmalk]

Part 3 for immortal!reader? Can be last chapter, just wanna see Ghost and Soap reaction. Price just explaining or still laughing his off or Gaz just passing out from too much shock.

"sorry for getting shot guys"

"how- what- huh?" Soap stammering.

Ghost still has his hands around Price's collar, Price was still chuckling, cigar on the floor, never belly-laughing this hard before.

Gaz staring at the reader, face paling before his does the cartoon faint, his legs going in the air while his hat flipped before falling.

Reader just staring like it was the norm (probably because it was for her/him)

no one reacts. its quiet, you can't help but awkwardly swallow and rub your throat slightly.

you can hear price sighing, obviously he knew you weren't going to stay dead, but it was still something you weren't overly fond of experiencing.

you felt some pain- but it was mostly none, after all, it wasn't as though you didn't die, you just didn't stay dead.

gaz swallows before his eyes roll into the back of his head, falling backwards and landing on his back, staring up at the sun. you give him a worried glance, but your muscles are still stiff, so you opt for just slightly calling out to him.

you don't get to, however, as someone's gloved hands grasp your face in their hands. you can hear soap as he slams price against the post once more, but your attention is taken away by ghost.

"what the fuck was that," he all but growls, his voice low and gravely, sending still shocks through your chest. "you didn't think to tell us about yer' little fuckin' stunt, huh?"

you swallow, reaching up to grab his wrist. soap moves from wherever he's standing and you vaguely see a figure attending to gaz. "look at me."

ghost isn't happy, the bile that threatened to rise out of his throat had setteld, but now theres steam practically flowing from his ears, theres a ringing he can't shake and his heart is pounding so hard he wonders if you could hear it.

"lighten up, lieutenant." price speaks as ghost loosens his grip on your head, letting out a puff of air through his nose. "they were given strict orders not to reveal anything until told otherwise, or during an emergency."

"captain, i don't think being upset with me counts as an emergency-"

"when i make a decision, you're supposed to trust that i'm making the right one," price isn't mad, but you're not interested in listening to him after he basically tried to kill you.

"Ye cannae ask us tae trust ye when ye've jist shot someone in the heid, cap'n."

"i'll ask whatever i bloody please, soap." price fixes his vest before turning away, not storming, but definitely walking somewhere with slightly more anger than usual.

"yer aight, pet?" soap gives you a once over, not able to look you in the eyes, before he gets shiver up his spine and has to walk away to cool himself down.

gaz - in the middle of the commotion - had been picked up and taken to the infirmary, leaving you.

and ghost.

h u h ?? im so sorry for the horrible scottish accent soap has I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO WRITE IT VERY WELL.

do we like? do we not like?? what will ghost do?? HMM??

[shmalk]

quick ghost x crazy!reader, whose a part of a large terrorist organisation, one of the higher ups, and takes simon hostage,, calls him a guard dog.

he has no choice but to stick to the plan, although his mission has deviated, you aren't torturing him or forcing him to talk, you think he'd just some big burely guy that you've taken off the street.

in reality he's trying to take down your enitre organisation, but he doesn't really mind it when you call him a good boy, and he's okay with you rubbing his head like that, scratching just behind his ear.

you're really crazy, pulling him around on a leash and taking him to meetings to have him sit by your feet, maybe have him nuzzle between your legs to keep you busy while you listen to these people talk.

god forbid someone looks at your dog the wrong way, '*sickem, boy!*' being your favourite catch phrase.

and maybe, just maybe, it gives simon the freedom to go crazy himself, to let loose, bite and tear at necks, blow bullets into the brains of some of the most deadly terrorists that he's ever known.

then, the missions over, your teams taken down :-( he secretly misses your words, feeding him through the enclosure when you first rescused him.

"ghost," price squints at him, "i believe you've already met the private?"

its *you.*

[shmalk]

OKAY IM CURRENTLY WRITING THIS SO DON'T EVEN WORRY YOUR PRETTY LITTLE HEADS <3

afab!reader x poly?141

bartender!reader who maybe works at the pub, or runs it, or maybe second in command, whose tall and lanky, and kind of clumsy but still the best rollerskater around (maybe the bar makes its employees use skates, maybe not)

and then the first person to meet reader is ghost, whose instantly obsessed, and you're not sure how, but eventually you're finding yourself stuck under him while he plows into you, hands tangled in your hair as he pulls you back just to fuck more of his cum into your poor, spent cunt-

next is probably roach, such a poor boy, and he's so touch starved that you can't help but tug him into your office, settling on your knees infront of him to take him into your mouth until he has tears in the corner of his eyes and his hands are practically ripping threads of your hair out as he begs in overstimulation please, god, fuck, please - i can't - i need to - wanna cum so bad f'you-

soap doesn't even bother trying to be slick about it, walking in when the bar isnt even opened just to tell you that he knows what youve been doing with the lieutenant and his sergeant, how he's going to tell everyone unless you bend him over the bar - just like that - plowing your hips against his as your strap reaches every goey spot that makes his legs shake and his eyes roll into the back of his head-

and gaz! such a sweet boy who offers to help when he sees you lugging kegs around, so you hand him one, and show him the way to the cellar until he's on his knees, you bent over one of the empty kegs and his face pressed between your folds, his tongue coated in you and your sticky sweetness, desperate to swallow everything you can give him.

john price is different, he's the one you have to look out for, coming in with his boys after a mission - you've not seen any of them for a few weeks and you're worried they've up and left you - when all five of them come in, the boys just wanting to show off their pretty little bartender whose so sweet and soft-

it's not long until he has you bouncing in his lap, despite being taller than him, one hand wrapped around your throat and the other holding a cigar. he doesn't care if the bar is crowded and anyone could turn around and see him tear a hole through the crotch of your jeans, if they could see him line himself up at your entrance, maybe shoving two fingers down your throat as he bounces you up and down.

I AM !!! RAVENNOUS !!! FOR THIS !>!>!>!>

[shmalk]

you're a part of a task force - not exactly sure which one, but your team is called in to help.

only - you have no idea which side you're supposed to be helping, so as your team barrels through the area, looking for anyone who might have called reinforcements, you get seperated.

you're good on your feet, you're one of the best with a gun, and you're a quick thinker, so you're on guard but still pretty confident.

that's until you find yourself yourself in a building. its been abandoned, some of the walls crumbling and falling in on itself - you have to jump over a few of the piles.

the room you enter has a metallic tang to it, and the creaking of the door does nothing to calm your nerves. its the breathing that you hear, soft and slow - strained. someone is dying.

the man in the corner of the room has a bullet wound in his shoulder, his eyes are shut and his hand is pressed against the section of his shirt coated with blood.

he's dark skinned, clean shaved with a dark blue sweater, covered by his bullet proof vest. he hasn't seen you, and even if he had, the gun by his arm was only just out of reach. he'd have to fall onto his side to reach it.

your gun is trained on him, waiting for any sudden movements as you check the immediate surrounding area. your radio crackles softly, and you wince, watching the mans eyes flutter open.

"you-" he can barely get a word in before he's gasping for breath and clutching his shoulder in pain. "are you here to kill me?"

you purse your lips, tuck your rifle on your back and respond with "i think so."

you've never felt bad for killing a man before - its your job, you get paid to take people out as though they were rubbish bags. only, this man in front of you, with a half smile on his face and his brows furrowed in pain - you feel guilty.

" can- can i know your name," he stops to cough a few times, "before you kill me?"

you look him over once more, his eyes almost pleading, and then out the window. no one would know he was here, his family- friends, even team, they'd have to declare him KIA.

rolling your shoulders, you push forward, grabbing his gun and tucking it into your belt, before pulling him from out against the wall. you slot yourself under his left arm, the one without a bullet in it.

"i'm not going to tell you my name," you decide, helping him stand up. "because then i can't kill you."

[shmalk]

I VERY MUCH WANT TO SEE MORE ON IMMORTAL READER IN 141.

I might just make a fic based on it.

Any more thoughts on it that might fuel me?

asjndjkbdfv if you make a fic can you p l e a s e tag me in it or i will cry !!!

maybe it's something reader has always had, maybe they havent, whatever it is - kate laswell knows about it and that's why she's put you in the team.

i wanna know how the boys found out, maybe its more on that hostage situation, you've been a part of the team for a while and then you're stolen - of course it's stealing, no one takes anything that belongs to the 141 !

maybe they find you - and the target, and he's using you as some sort of bargaining chip, "their life or mine, you choose."

and the boys are very much like "uh no we will have both thank you" and the target is like "uhm, no i just gave you a choice."

"we'll get both of you anyway, the building is surrounded." price, probably, thinking more logically than the boys.

the target, who obviously has something up his sleeve, takes out a gun and just shoots the reader, back of the head, maybe the bullet is a clean shot and goes right through and blood streams down your face.

ghost (its always ghost in these moments) tackles him, separating him from his gun and probably breaking a few bones in the process. so, ghost carries the unconscious man and soap carries plausibly dead you to ambulance - or medic car, whatever suits the story better.

and you just - wake up, in the middle of being dead. "soap, if i have to stare at your arse for any longer than four seconds, i will stab it."

and he drops you, and its funny and wholesome because the boys can get attached to reader without worrying if they're never gonna come back from a mission :-D

except for that one weak spot that you have, you know, that one spot on your lower back (where a trampstamp would be) that would render you paralysed and therefore your immortality would no longer work- oh.

sorry, did you say something?

[shmalk]

so....... anyone want a injured!johnny x pt!reader x simon??? where he's injured, hurt his leg maybe, and because reader was in the military they're the first reconmended physical therapist??

and both he and simon are already in a relationship but *fuck* you're so pretty and he can't help but flirt with you (INFRONT OF HIS PARTNER?!?!) and you're practically freaking out but all simon is thinking is how soon he can have both of you tucked under his sheets???

big fan..

[shmalk]

I KNOW I HAVE BEEN GONE IM SORRY BUT QUICK!! THINK ABOUT THIS!!

im think about you doing a russian reload infront of gaz, maybe you were on a previous team and you were lost in russian foreests with nothing but russian guns for three months- who cares, but you completely forget about using normal guns.

gaz tells price, who knows about your circumstances, and is very forgiving, he wants to help uou forget. by bending you iver the desk until all you can remember is your name?

maybe the boys help?? him?