#I loved him as Nik

[evenbettershot]

“Do you take anything seriously?”

“Not if I can help it. Makes life so tedious”

[nekrosmos]

They're going on a date 👍​

[pricegouge]

the erotic pin up thought but imagine nikolai tattooing his favourite pic and surprising his lover with it :3

he's already been away for two weeks when you get a text from an unknown number. you don't need the contact to discern who it is, anyway. in istanbul. things are running long. don't expect me back so soon. you're not expecting a reply when you tell him not to worry, to just keep himself safe, but you're delighted when you get one anyway.

>>You too, milaya.

he messages you at least once a day, just to check in. you've never been able to contact him like this while he's been on mission before and you don't want to ruin it by being too needy but the temptation of your phone lays heavy in your pocket all week. you'd hate to interfere but he makes it hard when he keeps up a slow, steady means of communication. you wonder about the mission, don't dare ask. it seems unlikely that he'd let himself be so distracted if it were something high stakes, though. it's possible he's been relegated to glorified taxi while bigger pieces make their moves and you can't help but sympathize when you picture him waiting around, dining in the quaint kind of cafes he'd never really seemed to find an appreciation for - at least, not on his own. he was always happy enough to take you but it had always been very clear where his interest lied, dark eyes trained on you even as he ordered. observant, filing away each little reaction he could pull from you with savory dishes and select deserts. you flatter yourself, imagining his patience breaking, just a little more each day, just enough to text you, earlier and earlier each day until two weeks have come and gone and you've basically fallen into a constant rapport.

you ask for pictures of the city and he obliges, little peeks into the life he's living while away. yet more evidence this is some bizarrely political mission he doesn't really need to be present for. you note when he moves locales a few times but he tactfully avoids telling you his location again. he stops sending you pictures altogether when you start guessing correctly.

so you start sending him pictures instead. they start out innocent enough, testing the limits of what you're allowed to say on this line. he shows gives no intent to stop you when you show him the view from the summit of a local hike, nor even when you snap a picture outside a local restaurant, its logo left carelessly in frame. he only tells you to enjoy, doubles down when you send a selfie with your cheeks stuffed full of spanakopita.

you start to think he deserves a reward, being on the clock for nearly a month straight and still finding the time to check in with you.

his hangar is a sacred place, one you rarely enter without his accompaniment. too many expensive tools, machinery pulled apart with all its fragile bits exposed. you're always afraid to touch, afraid to break. nik had told you once that every item there was made of sterner stuff, that you couldn't hurt a swashplate if you climbed up on it. funny how you might be taking him up on the offer now.

(you wouldn't know really, the knowledge about what a swashplate even was having gone in one ear and right out the other. not your fault when he looked that good, jumpsuit folded down to reveal a sweaty, clingy tank top, wiry hair visible through the thin ribbed material.)

but you're getting ahead of yourself.

the tarp kicks up a mess when you pull it free, concrete dust having settled in nik's absence. it sends you into a sneezing fit and you curse, smudging your makeup as you try to wipe away the moisture collecting on your lash line. you decide to roll with it when you catch a glimpse of yourself in some nearby chrome, see the kind of effect it brings to your overall look.

your makeup is classic, a bright lip and exaggerated liner. even a painted on beauty mark to really knock it home. the outfit was harder to settle on, your every instinct telling you nik always appreciated when you looked your finest, all dolled up in expensive labels he'd bought for you. but ultimately you'd decided what was good for the goose was good for the gander, pilfering from his closet until you'd found what you were looking for, the exact same outfit which drove you mad.

nik's a big man, his jumpsuit made to reflect that. it drapes away from your waist when you let it hang but it's nothing that a clever safety pin corset can't fix, the top of the suit left to hang over it, hiding it away. long legs are easier to remedy, hems tucked into a pair of hiking boots you hadn't cared about in years, now painted to look the part with the same gear grease you'd smeared all over yourself, tasteful swipes meant to accentuate your soft curves, here on display under the dirty tank top you'd sworn you'd told him to get rid of, now tied tight around your waist to show off your chest. and now with your smudged makeup you think you've finally got it right, the look exactly what you'd been going for when you'd first got the notion in your head.

with the stage already set, the photoshoot goes easily enough. the poses are almost instinctual, the big wrench you wield almost natural in your hands as you lean provocatively over the engine block, tits to squished you doubt he'll ever even notice the size isn't right for the bolts in front of you. you try a couple of different styles, positions which are obviously designed with aesthetics in mind interspersed with more competent looking ones, even though it makes you feel ridiculous when you think of how obvious it will be to him that you don't know what you're doing.

you just have to remember how little he's going to mind it, all told.

editing isn't your strong suit. you're racked with doubt all the while, hyperfocused on every little flaw you spot. it gets easier when you remember the whole shoot is meant to be quite grimy and in the end you settle on a decent collection. you even remember to upload them to a file sharing site to avoid compression, sending him the link with a wink and a warning not to open in front of his comrades.

he calls you naughty immediately, but it's long hours before he can properly respond, a call that wakes you up in the middle of the night so he can pant and moan in your ear about how much he wants to bend you over that engine, peel his suit off of you and eat your cunt from the back. it's the first time you've heard his voice in weeks and the low rumble of it conspires with the slickness in your panties which never fully righted itself after your little photoshoot, the anticipation of his reaction keeping you primed for him. you come together before trading quiet reassurances. how much you miss each other, how you can't wait to see him again. he makes a vague promise to be home soon and you're still so sated that the twinge of loneliness feels like nothing really.

you think that's the end of it. that maybe he'll request more, at most. but then you wake up days later with a furnace at your back and a hairy arm draped over your side. it's still early, the sun not even up yet. you should let him sleep but you can't help rolling within the age of his arm and planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. even in the low light you can see how haggard and hollow he looks, run ragged for too long. his beard is overgrown, the short stubble he usually keeps filling out into a decent beard.

really it's unfair how handsome he looks even now.

"go back to sleep."

you huff a laugh and press another kiss to him. lower now that you know he's awake. above his cupid's bow, your own lips drawn tight with your smile. "but it's morning."

"can't be," he counters, voice thick with exhaustion. "i only just fell asleep."

you hum, distracted as you trace the wrinkles of his forehead. was that one always there? was it new? "maybe it's not wherever you were," you concede. "where were you, by the way?"

"where wasn't i?" he sighs as he rolls away, a great puff of air that cuts through the easiness of the morning, reminds you of what exactly he's likely returned from. the culmination of the mission, even the easy one it seemed to be. he was rarely ever trotted out for emissary visits, after all.

but you don't want to think about all that so you follow him as he rolls, laying yourself across his chest to keep him grounded as you rub against his far shoulder. "well you're home now and my vote's for sleeping in."

his chest rumbles beneath you, a quiet laugh you can feel more so than you can hear. he takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to your fingers before setting it back down in favor of reaching much lower to pull you more properly onto him. your grip shifts from his shoulder to his bicep and you pause when you feel the edge of a bandage there, worry settling low in your belly as you trace the edges of it. "you're hurt?" you demand, but you don't give him a chance to respond before sitting up and leaning across him to turn the lamp on.

it takes you a moment to make sense of what you're looking at, the bandage you'd felt before nothing more than four haphazard lines of tape holding a square of black plastic against his skin. he laughs at your confusion, thumbing the furrow between your brows away as he also sits up, pulling you onto his lap as he reassures you he's not hurt.

"what's that then?" you ask, afraid to peel the edges up and see for yourself.

he's chuckling as he does it for you, the wrap pulling away to reveal the neat black lines and bold color of a traditional tattoo, a plump little pinup in a barely-hanging-on mechanic's jumpsuit, her cartoonishly circular tits squeezed between her own arms as she leaned confidently over simplified engine block. it's good work from what you can tell. his bicep is a big canvas, the tattoo itself appropriately sized, leaving the artist enough room for minute details, smudges of brown oil accentuating your curves and a wry smile below demure lids.

still.

"you didn't," you scoff, too blown away to even know if you're actually mad or not. you don't think you are, but what if he -

what if -

"well it was either this or i get you airbrushed on the side of the blackhawk, but you are mine, and i do not want just anyone to see you like that."

[s0fter-sin]

the thing about niksoap that draws me in so much is nik is such a different personality to ghost, price and gaz. he’s effortlessly dominant but he’s also soft in a way that they aren’t; not soft as in gentle, soft as in allowing

nik is slow, inevitable; he’s like an iceberg, enduring everything in his wake and just waiting for it to submit. bc he knows it always will. there is no stopping him, not bc he’s strict or rough but bc he will outlast you

soap is energetic, impatient for his pleasure; he will brat and push and spit until his partner breaks and he gets his way. until he proves that he’s too much for them (too much for anyone, a lost cause, but if he makes them quit him at least he’ll save himself the pain. right?) it’s what makes him such a difficult sub; doms don’t want to fight to earn their place when it’s supposed to be theirs by right

but nik? he just takes it; everything soap does and says rolls straight off his back. he doesn’t even punish him, doesn’t spank him or put him in chastity or end their scene altogether like other doms have; just gives him that smile that somehow triggers every one of soap’s danger senses. nik is a sponge, taking everything soap throws at him until he’s bare; no more fronting, no more deflection. finally ready to submit

bc nik? nik has endurance. he has never ending patience bc he knows once he truly gets started, soap won’t be able to complain about not getting his. he lasts longer than any toy battery, any motor in any machine; he fucks soap right through his insults, through the biting and scratching, keeping the same even and deep pace

he fucks him through his first orgasm, his second, until he’s babbling through his third; desperately trying to lift his wet and aching cock away from the sodden sheets, the overstimulation too much, but nik’s weight pins him down, forcing him to take it without ever raising a hand

and nik doesn’t speed up, doesn’t break stride no matter how much soap squeezes and throbs around him until he’s open mouthed drooling into the sheets, eyes rolled back into his skull, cock spent between his legs; any thought of snarky insults long gone from his mind

nik’s orgasm hits with the weight of a train; always has, rolling over him long and hard as he grinds deep inside soap’s gaping hole with a low grunt and a satisfied sigh. he kisses behind soap’s ear, softening inside him and tips them over to rest on their sides; one hand cupped around soap’s throat, thumb brushing over his still-racing pulse as he holds him, waiting for him to complete the slow crawl up from the depths of pleasure

[toddtakefive]

one of my favorite things about dps is the completely irrelevant background conversations/comments you’re probably not meant to hear but are still just barely audible? like the two guys in the study room arguing over their turns on the dart board, or the guys laughing under their breath and making ridiculing remarks when knox reads out his poem for chris, or the people in the opening scenes you can hear finding their friends and saying hi. it literally doesn’t matter at all, but it makes it feel so much realer and like you’ve really just been dropped into the setting with todd on the first day.

[bytedykes]

[ID: TGCF drawings.

Colored sketch of Hua Cheng. He has a hand covering the lower half of his face. His eyepatch is shaped like a butterfly.

Sketch of Hualian dressed as each other, Hua Cheng in Xie Lian's robe and wearing his bamboo hat, his hair pulled into the same half bun, and Xie Lian in Hua Cheng's outfit, his hair fully down. Xie Lian is holding on to Hua Cheng's arm with both hands, and they're smiling at each other as they speak.

Sketch of Yin Yu from chest up. He's drawn wearing his mask. Beside him is a smaller sketch of him with the mask off. He has a neutral expression.

Sketches of Feng Xin. In one he stands with a hand on his hip, frowning to the side. In the second Cuocuo has sunk his teeth into his hand. He's trying to pull Cuocuo off, yelling "Get off!!" There's also a tiny sketch of Cuocuo, and a tiny sketch of Feng Xin as a Mii. /end ID]

some tgcf sketches!!! ive been working on how i want to draw hc and i think ive settled on something i like. yin yu's mask is inspired by a combination of what it looks like in the manhua and the shape of beijing opera masks! feng xin... get his ass cuocuo

ty @princess-of-purple-prose for the ideas!! <33

[shyravenns]

I NEED to see Nikolai with stretch marks on his stomach

[panchulien]

Nikolai's voice when he goes "I love my work! >:3" Please. I love him so much. 😭

[cruesuffix]

if you love him so much why don’t ya marry him??!!! /j

(but also nikki can you kiss and make up with him already, jeez…)

[marsontherocks]

I support all Gaz ships because he's so pretty and deserves to be lusted after

[nekrosmos]

Nikolai loves touching Price whenever he can. He has been waiting so, so very long to finally have him, and he is going to make up for lost time.

It can be as simple as gently placing his hand on his waist to guide him as they're entering a room, grabbing his hand for support to help him jump off his chopper, or tracing circles with his index against the back of Price's hand while they're eating a quick lunch together.

Sometimes, Nikolai will be bolder, grabbing the inside of John's thigh with his large hand as they're sitting around the same table during a meeting, squeezing it and watching Price tense up for a second, before letting go. Other times, he will sneak a hand under John's T-shirt, the palm of his hand moving up his back, feeling him shiver under his touch, letting go before anyone else can see.

Even when they're in the middle of an op, Nik will grab any opportunity to touch Price. Gently raising his chin with his fingers so that John's eyes can meet his before telling him good luck, handing him a gun and having his fingers brush against John's, lingering for a second too long while winking at him, or grabbing John's hat after it flew away and placing it back on his head and tenderly but briefly caressing John's earlobe between his fingers after doing so.

With the life they lead, those stolen touches can sometimes be all he gets for weeks before finally having John all to himself in their bedroom. There will be time, then, to show him the extent of his love for him. In the meantime, those touches will have to do.

[tiredassmage]

hoth-imperial_agent.exe

[nikrei]

Butterfly Boy Kon-el

Oilslick hair, sharp teeth, glowing eyes.... I don't think he's really human, guys!

I absolutely love @abacistat's headcanon about kon having a ton of fake piercings, so that's what his septum ring is here.

[pricegouge]

[gomzdrawfr]

gooomz. brother. u probably already heard this before but I have to say again. I love love love the way you do Nik. He brings me sm joy to look at thank u for drawing him esp the chibi style makes me wanna bawl my eyes out. u are awesome and . Have this one billion oranges 🍊×100000.. as a token of my appreciation

my dear, thank you for the kind words <3333 whenever I doubt myself I think about your comments, the nikprice penguin gang, friends and followers as well, but you specifically made it easier and lifting to enjoy the process of doodling everyone's fav Russian pilot....thank you, thank you sm....

oh god one billion oranges 🍊🍊🍊!!! please!! lemme hand these to everyone :)

[shyravenns]

something something Price in a bitchy mood (or maybe upset at Nik) and when Nikolai approaches for a hug from behind he just pulls away like 'No, no touching. Down you go.' As he motions to the floor and Nikolai doesn't hesitate to drop to his knees right then and there, looking up at Price without even questioning the order or ask what's wrong....... like a good dog.....you know....?

Anon, please understand that the drawing I am about to do for this is for you and you ALONE

I mentioned this on twit a week ago, but Nik is less of a dog and more of a wolf who has willingly let Price slide a muzzle around his mouth and it is utterly fascinating to me. Price loves it when Nik is one his knees after a shower and he gets to run his fingers through his natural curls 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨