#kyle would SO do that

[monkesupreme]

ref

a satisfactory answer for Selina

[temeyes]

sergeant doods

[mintfullyyours]

"no one can hear you scream" prank

I'm sure this has been done but have y'all see that prank "no one can hear you scream"? this is how I imagine it would go lol

They all would react so different but tell me why Simon would be low-key into it?

thank you all for indulging with me <3

let me know if you'd like to be on my tag list

John Price

"And that, love, is a Redwing," John points upwards, bringing his binoculars to his eyes. "Beautiful, innit? Migrates here from Scandinavia and Iceland."

"Beautiful indeed," you hum in agreement. You step ahead of John, hands tucked into your pockets as you glance back at him with a mischievous smirk, "I bet no one can hear you scream."

John squints at you, lowering his binoculars slowly. His hand instinctively drops to the waistband of his jeans, where his handcuffs are nestled. Unease crept up his chest, "What was that?"

You spin around with a teasing glint in your eye. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding."

John huffs, shaking his head as he closes the distance between you. "Uh-huh," he drawls, reaching out to grab your wrist before you can dart away. You yelp, laughing as he easily pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around you in a firm but playful hold. "Think you're funny, don't you?" he murmurs against your hair.

"A little," you admit, grinning up at him.

He exhales dramatically, "You’re lucky I love you."

You poke his chest. "And you're lucky I didn't mean it."

John lets out a chuckle, pressing a warm kiss to your temple before nudging you forward. "Come on, dove. Before I have to put those handcuffs to use." The way he smirks at you sends a shiver down your spine—not from the cold, but from the entirely new kind of trouble you might’ve just walked into.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Finally." You huff out, interlacing your fingers with Simon, you drag him deeper into the woods. "Now that we're alone, no one can hear you scream."

You giggle, thinking this is how you'll really leave him speechless. Without skipping a beat, Simon smirks. "I won't scream."

"Huh?"

Before you can process his words, he grabs a fistful of your shirt and pushes you back against a tree. The rough bark presses into your spine, and your heart races. This wasn’t how your silly little trend was supposed to go.

But this was your boyfriend & he is lethal.

He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "You forget who you're playin’ with, love," he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement. His fingers tighten around the fabric at your waist, his body pressing just close enough to make you shiver. "If anything, you'll be the one screaming."

Your breath catches, and he chuckles—low, knowing.

"You alright" he teases, tilting his head. "What happened to all that courage, hm?"

You clear your throat, willing yourself to sound unfazed. "I—uh—"

Simon hums, running his fingers along your side before pulling away with an infuriating smirk. "Thought so." He steps back, offering you his hand. "Now, are we finishing this walk, or do I need to carry you out of here?"

You narrow your eyes, smoothing down your shirt as you take his hand. "You're the wooorst."

He presses a quick, teasing kiss to your forehead. "And you love it."

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny leapt over a small stream and held his hand out for you to take. "Actually, birdie, next time we can go to Inverness. Beautiful trail out there." You groaned playfully, already counting down the hours until you’d be back in civilization.

"'M thinking we get pizza for dinner after this," Johnny huffed, stepping over a rock. Your stomach grumbled at the sound of that, "Make that two."

"Pizza’s good," you agreed, teasing. "Just like how it's good for us to be out here… because no one would hear you scream."

Johnny halted mid-step, "What was that?"

You blinked innocently, "I said I wanted ice cream... when we get back?" You tilted your head. "What’dya think I said?"

His eyes narrowed, lips twitching upward. In a blink, he closed the distance, scooping you up in one swift motion. You yelped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he spun you effortlessly.

"Johnny!" You shrieked, laughing.

"Oh no, lass," he smirked, voice dropping to something low and playful, "if you’re gonna make threats, ye best be ready for the consequences."

Still holding you against him, he leaned in, his breath ghosting against your lips. "No one would hear you scream, either."

Heat bloomed in your chest, your breath hitching—but before you could react, he kissed the tip of your nose and dropped you back onto your feet with a smug grin.

"Now," he clapped his hands, "pizza first, then ice cream, and maybe… if you’re real sweet to me, I’ll let you make all the threats you want—in private."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You shut the car door and take a deep breath of the crisp forest air. Marveling at the dense trees ahead of you, you take a step forward and sigh, "No one would hear you scream."

"What?" Kyle asked, arching a brow. His hand still rested on the car door, as if ready to bolt.

"Nothinggg." You say in a singsong voice, suppressing a grin.

"Oh, absolutely not." Kyle wrenches the car door back open and hops right back inside.

You giggle, walking back to the car to find the door locked when you try to open it. "Kyle, I was just kidding."

"Yeah? I've watched enough True Crime while you've dozed off to know you might not actually be kidding."

"Let me in, Garrick," you roll your eyes, tugging at the handle again.

"No way, love," he says, smirking through the window.

You cross your arms and tilt your head. "If you don't let me in, I will find another way to make you scream." His smirk falters just a little. "That a threat?"

You lean in, lowering your voice. "A promise."

Kyle hesitates for a beat, then the locks click open. The second you slide into the passenger seat, he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his space—close enough for you to feel his breath fan against your lips.

"You know," he murmurs, his fingers grazing along your arm, "for someone who jokes about murder, you’re an awful tease."

You smirk. "And yet, you keep letting me in."

Kyle exhales a laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. Now tell me—what was that about making me scream?"

You hum, trailing your fingers along his jaw. "Guess you'll just have to find out later, Sergeant."

His eyes darken just enough to send a thrill through you.

"Yeah," he mutters, starting the engine with a grin. "We're definitely getting a cabin next time."

tag list

@ebodebo @meheheasasa

[gender-luster]

THEY SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN TO KILL THEIR FATHER

[gomzdrawfr]

fellas is it gay to dress up with your CO and comment about bust sizes

[frownyalfred]

please can someone draw Hal Jordan or another Green Lantern in this, I need to see it…..for science

[reds-skull]

Bored out of their minds waiting for the helo

[s0fter-sin]

thinking about price putting his hat on the boys' heads

cw war guilt, self harm through working out

it's only happened once or twice with each of them, only when they're on the brink and safe enough for price to let himself soften

🧼

the first time it happens to soap is on his first demo mission as a corporal; the first time he's been in charge of the planning the rig and the first time he’s close enough to see the human fallout of the explosion he worked so hard on and realises how often it means a slow and messy death

he knows they're the enemy; knows if it wasn't them, it would be him, then the long line of civilians at his back that he stands so strong to protect. he knows that

but that doesn't stop the screaming echoing in his mind, doesn't rid the memory of burning bodies trying to crawl away from their signed deaths

signed by him

he's sitting on the concrete outside the barracks, trying to get the cold to leech the remnants of the fire from his blood that his ice cold shower couldn’t douse. he jumps at the feel of a leg pressing against his side and looks up at price as he leans back against the wall, his hands cupped around a cigarette

soap flinches at the sparks coming from his lighter and looks away, his knees creeping up tighter to his chest

"it gets easier," price rumbles above him, exhaling a long breath and the comforting acrid scent of smoke spills around him

he shifts uneasily and pretends it's not to get closer. "i don't think that makes me feel better, sir,” he admits

"never said it would," he shrugs with the ease of a man who's had this same conversation a hundred times and will have it a hundred more. "just that it does."

soap sniffles then growls at himself, harshly scraping his wrist over his face

a light weight drops on his head and he stifles a gasp as price's hat falls low over his reddened eyes, hiding him from the prying gaze of the world

"you'll be alright, son," he promises and soap's lips tremble. he presses them tight together and follows price's hand as he guides his face into the side of his knee, cupping his jaw and holding him close as he shakes apart

"you'll be alright."

🧢

gaz doesn't crave softness when he messes up; doesn't want forgiveness or assurance. he wants blood; blood shed for blood that shouldn't have been lost

the punching bag is shining by the time price walks into the gym; shining yet also muted where his blood’s had the time to dry and stain, his knuckles torn to shreds

gaz' fist almost slips off the bag and he clicks his tongue. "you gonna keep makin' that a biohazard or do you want to do something actually worthwhile?"

his lip kicks up in a snarl and he sends a glare over his shoulder. "what?"

"think medical's got enough bodies, don't you?" he asks and a dangerous stillness fills the air

gaz shoves off the bag, knuckles dripping onto the mats. "you wanna add one more?"

price quirks an eyebrow, so nonchalant that it just makes him angrier; blood boiling in his veins. "come on, then."

he stalks onto the sparring mats and price barely blinks before he's attacking; throwing wild punches, eyes a hundred miles away

back in beirut

where they had to pull their team out in pieces because gaz missed the suicide bomber launching himself out of the rubble

price dodges each desperate strike, loose and sloppy and nowhere near gaz’ usual level of skill. he doesn't hit back once and gaz' faces twists with each miss, sweat flying off him as his grunts turn into growls, turn into screams as he throws himself at him

price ducks and snatches his hat off his head, slapping it into gaz' face to blind him and drives him back into the mats

he gags as his lungs seize, his air is forced out of him; leaving him to heave harsh breaths that stick in the fabric of the hat. the humid dark closes in on him, forcing him to focus on his breaths so he doesn't throw up or pass out; forcing him to stay within his body instead of drowning in another country

price's hand is heavy behind it, keeping it trapped over his face. "are you done?" he asks, not even breathless

gaz pants, his whole body tingling, and his fingers dig harder into his face

"are you done?" he insists

he swallows dry, suddenly aware of the exhaustion sapping at his limbs, the pain in his hands, the tightness in his throat. "i'm done," he rasps

price relaxes but doesn't remove his hand or push him to get up. they sit on the mats for a while, price's weight and the dark anchoring gaz to the here and now

💀

contrary to popular belief, ghost doesn't hate family days

he doesn't glare at the droves of civilians entering the base, doesn't stand as a spectre of death and grief over the rookies running into the arms of their families on one of the most important days of their career. he doesn't begrudge the safety and love they feel from coddling mothers and embarrassingly proud fathers, from laughing siblings and sticky-fingered children

he remembers his own graduation too well to want to take it from them

he stands in his dress blues through the speeches, his neck gaiter hiding less than he'd like but at ease with the compromise he and price reached. he looks over the tearful family members as name after name gets called, takes careful note of the ones who are clapped for less than the others, and lines up with the other officers as they wait for the tap out

one by one, the graduates get released by their loved ones; no longer standing attention as a recruit but embracing them as a private

just as he's done every year, ghost checked their records to ensure they all had someone coming for them; he's never let a single one stand in the field waiting for someone who will never come. it's rare that his diligence is necessary but he's never let them feel any shame for it; telling them to keep their heads high as he pats their shoulder

he's not needed today and he watches as they're slowly released and disperse, all with a reminder of why they've worked so hard and who they’re here to protect

it's quiet on base that night; soldiers take any chance to celebrate and a graduation is nothing to sneeze at. ghost stands out in the field, out in the gentle quiet. his hands sit folded behind him as he looks up at the stars and he doesn't flinch as a voice sounds behind him

"been a long time since you could be called a rookie," price says, falling into place beside him

ghost hums. "longer for you, i’d say."

he huffs a laugh. "cheeky shite," he snickers. "that hasn't changed; bloody twig of a thing too big for his boots, angry at the world and ready to prove it wrong."

"plenty changed to make up for it," he huffs, his breath disturbing his gaiter

"lot more's stayed the same," price counters and steps in front of him, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he squares his shoulders

"lieutenant riley," he starts and ghost almost rolls his eyes. "you've shown exemplary courage in the face of adversity, gone above and beyond the call of duty and expressed great leadership in your dedication to your team and the men in your charge. congratulations, soldier; you've earned it."

ghost swallows thickly and refuses to admit to the shine threatening his eyes. "thank you, sir."

price smiles and plucks his hat off his head, placing it on his and pats his head; brushing his thumb over his temple

"come on, son; you've waited long enough."

[candyunicornsateme]

A happy birthday to my Aries little shit 🧡

[karlachismylife]

I just know Gaz is so fucking good at rock climbing. He's just built perfectly for it, he's got the endurance, the flexibility, the grip, the core strength, the agility, the arm spread, he's not too bulky and heavy like Soap or Ghost, his height gives him quite a lot of advantages (even though sometimes there are trails for us hobbits, but mostly being tall helps). Price could probably give him a run for his money, but since I headcanon that Price has seriously fucked up his spine and joints, especially in his fingers, he might be held back by this. Also I feel like Kyle has the best endurance out of all four of them, so he does extremely well on the long ones. He's also got that magical ability to be able to take a rest at the tiniest little handle, like literally catches himself with two toes and a pinch on a non-existent bump in the rock and relaxes as if he's lounging on a beach, all muscles resting before the upcoming difficult few meters.

Also he's one of those who will climb even in slippers, just because he gotta flex like that.

No I'm not drooling over his fingers wrapped in that tape in places where he ripped calluses off, you are.

Also this was induced by a SoapGaz thought where Gaz runs Soap through some intensive training on the climbing walls and enjoys the view of all that muscle bulk flexing and rippling as Soap struggles to find his balance and makes mistakes in dispersing his weight which limits his reach. He's so tense, he can barely slur his Scottish nonsense out, sweat streaming down the dip of his spine and soaking his tank top through.

When he finally falls of the wall after reaching the top handle, his fingers are shaking and he needs Kyle's help to untie the harness knot. Wipes his forehead, leaving a white streak of magnesia stuck to the wet skin, and huffs and grumbles about how he'll still beat Kyle's PR one day.

Gaz won't let him, of course. But he won't stop Johnny from trying either, because after that he gets to massage all those sore muscles Soap didn't even know existed, and listen to him groan as he shamelessly leaks into his boxers. Because why wouldn't Soap get off the post-gym muscle strain, really. And why wouldn't Gaz enjoy watching him get painfully hard and sensitive from barely sexual touch, exploding into his mouth as soon as Kyle wraps his lips around Soap's tip.

[darkbunnylove]

Poly!141 at the gym

Soap is that one GymBro™ that is respected by all because he outlifts nearly everyone at everything, but somehow also stays incredibly humble about it. “Oh that? Nah, you could totally do that too,” he says to a guy half his size, holding a 2kg dumbbell and vibrating with fear.

Basically lives in the gym. Goes whenever there’s a gap in his schedule. Runs a surprisingly balanced split (he took gym advice from a Reddit thread in 2014 and now quotes it like it’s the Bible). Cardio? Handled during drills and chasing down targets. The walk from the locker room to the squat rack is plenty.

Everyone likes him because he talks to everyone. Literally. You. The guy hogging the bench. The janitor. The vending machine. Every gym session starts with a cheerful, “Hey, mate, how many sets you got left?” and ends with a full-blown conversation about the newest pre-workout trends or the crushing weight of modern masculinity.

Gaz is the other GymBro™ and also hits the gym whenever there’s a spare moment, but unlike Soap, he’s usually there in the early morning because it helps him clear his head and start the day right. Probably did track or cross-country as a kid, so he actually likes cardio. Takes it very seriously, too. “You do realize your heart’s a muscle too, yeah? Gotta train it like the rest,” he says, likely even mid-sprint.

Also probably the only one out of the four who goes to the gym because his body is a temple, not because he’s battling a whole army of inner demons.

Friendly, but keeps to himself at the gym. Headphones in, locked in, not trying to bother anyone. But if your form is truly a disaster, he’ll absolutely say something.

Once accidentally signed up for a spin class. Secretly loved it. Now he goes twice a week for the white-girl music. Not like he would tell anyone, though.

Ghost definitely does some sort of hybrid training. Probably boxing, or Muay Thai. Scarily good at it. Like used to compete in high school good. These days, he just keeps it up to stay in shape. Only ever shows up late at night, when the gym is half-empty and dimly lit. Price jokingly calls it his natural habitat.

Definitely fighting some inner demons. Also the only person who can outlift Soap. Occasionally brags.

Not a big coffee lover, but absolutely has a caffeine addiction. Mainlines Monster White like it’s a medical requirement. Gaz is lowkey concerned but stays quiet.

Wears a black hoodie and joggers every single time with the hood up, of course. Never chats. Never smiles. People are lowkey terrified of him on sight, but mostly because between sets, he zones out so hard he ends up staring into the void.

Probably a phonk-enjoyer. Or Britney Spears.

Price either hits the gym at the crack of dawn or well into the late evening, thanks to his nightmare of a schedule. Usually catches Gaz on his way out or Ghost mid-brood. If he shows up at night, he’ll stay even longer than Ghost. 

Very solid split. Great all-rounder. Can crank out weighted pull-ups like it’s nothing and is the only one who actually takes stretching seriously. Does a lot of functional training too, like sled pushes and weighted carries.

Would actually be a phenomenal spotter… if he didn’t only show up when the gym is basically empty.

Does not listen to music. The haunting loop of “you should be doing more” on repeat is enough for him. Probably knocks out an entire set in silence, then just stares at the floor like it said something offensive.

Apart from trying to hit his protein goals the “natural” way, he owns exactly one shaker bottle. It’s survived three deployments and a house fire.

Can casually do pistol squats, but will only do it if practically bullied into it by the others.

Oh, and he's definitely the only one who actually wipes the bench after using it.

[alaskan-wallflower]

modern day steve would be an energy drink connoisseur, like dude would be chugging monster energies and celsius like it’s no one’s business. sodapop jokes with him that he can see the wings growing on steve’s back from the amount of red bulls he drinks

[biteytiefling]

dc x dp prompt so I’ve seen some cat thief, Danny au’s and some neko au’s and ghost adoption au’s but I haven’t seen any where Selena Kyle is ghost adopted as well

So Selena stole a magic artifact dedicated to a cat god ( this particular cat god was also a god of thieves, outcasts, and mischief )but there was an accident and unbeknownst to Selena she became a halfa and was immediately adopted by the cat god that unfortunately couldn’t communicate with her without her getting in touch with her powers that had yet to show up. That same cat god later found the Dannys and adopted them as well this does affect their appearance they turn into neko’s. Jazz gets adopted later to and gets turned into a warlock of the cat god and gets turned into a neko as a result of the adoption/pact ( they can hide the cat features but they come out when they use there powers )

Anyway a couple years later after a disagreement with Bruce she finds a bunch of nekos in her living room claiming to be her younger siblings and they want to learn everything about being the worlds greatest thief and they want to teach her about her abilities? And some mess with the government and ………oh they are on the run from the government because they aren’t classified as people and the justice league has ignored them and an entire town……. oh it’s time for some serious pettiness

Danny, elly, Dan and jazz are all sent to Gotham to meet their adopted oldest sister and learn to cause trouble and mischief all thoroughly done with the us government they are going to be terrorizing until the justice league gets their stuff together and fixes the anti-ecto acts 

So amity park can freely come and go from the realms but they choose to stay and just visit and cause chaos in there old home world and are more than willing to help mess with the justice league for fun just so long as nobody gets too hurt and the amity parker’s will actually help the heroes if it entertains them/ if needed 

[howtotrainyourrei]

KYLE GALLNER as REED GARRETT | CSI: NY S03E10

[justanartistiguess]

Fanon vs Canon Kyle, as I've seen on Tumblr dot com

[s0fter-sin]

still thinking about gaz doing ghost’s skincare

even when they’re on base and the worst of the all-encompassing exhaustion is held at bay, he knows ghost doesn’t have the energy to spare to do any kind of in depth routine; knows as much as it makes him feel good to feel soft and clean and cared for, he won’t be able to keep up with it by himself

gaz just didn't expect how good it would feel to do it for him

how accomplished he'd feel when he figured out the right combination of products to soothe ghost's sensitive neglected skin without him breaking out or getting even more dehydrated, the best moisturiser for his scars, researching no-wash products so he doesn't have to get up once they've started; all ghost has to do is lay back and let gaz work

it's an honour, not only to be trusted enough with ghost's - with simon's - face but also to watch him lose every ounce of tension in his body

they usually - and how amazing that they have a usual, that this has become a routine - end up with ghost's head in his lap, a soft pillow beneath his head so he can just rest. it's not uncommon for him to fall asleep entirely as gaz follows his steps

bottles of cleansers and serums and moisturisers all bought just for him, each one dutifully researched with ghost's skin type in mind, all stored in a black leather bag moulded into a skull bc gaz found it browsing one day and thought it was too perfect. ghost doesn't even know what they all do, just knows how blissful it is to feel the gentle pressure of gaz's fingers massaging his face; following the contours of scars that haven't pulled or flared since they started doing this

gaz never tells him about the rollers he could use instead, the applicators that are technically better for his skin bc it would mean he'd know that gaz uses his hands just for him; that he can feel how much he craves his touch and knows he enjoys it just as much, if not more than the actual results

gaz just tells him that a thorough massage after everything is applied is necessary for all the products to marry up and sink properly into his skin and spends the next half hour smiling down at his superior as he lets go of all his pain and trusts him to keep him afloat