#oh captain my captain..

[konkeez]

i like the headcanon of swansea serving, so here's a little thing!! i was gonna design his wife....then didn't. maybe next time.

(i suppose this is an AU where everything is fine and the crew gets home!)

[anyoneinside]

Full of

[bluegiragi]

limitations (part 3)

early access + nsfw on patreon

[nekrosmos]

🕷️​🕷️​🕷️​

[secretly-a-trekkie]

"Oh good show, sir. For a moment, I was afraid you'd had a rational thought"

[kalivodas]

JOHN PRICE I'm so in love. I saw a post with the headcanon how he gets a boner in situations that aren't sexual but sweet. Like whenever they talk about marriage or moving in together or something like that. I just thought that such a cute thought.

awww i blush me + that old man 4ever 💋

YOU AND JOHN Price were standing in the middle of some bustling department store. Walls lined with home decor, faint promises to the future that swelled around you.

John was pressed right to your backside, eyes roaming the bath section curiously, and your mouth parted as you realized a part of him swelled, too.

“John,” you cough out. “Are you hard looking at towels?”

He blinks down at you, head shaking in an accusatory way. “No. Why’d you ask that?”

“I can feel it.”

A taut grin splits his face before he can stop it. “Maybe a bit.”

You go to step away from him, chide him a bit, but his palms find your hips, and he tightens a vice at the fat there. “Don’t move,” he grits. “Please.”

“Fine,” you huff, a snort of insolence passing your lips as you bent down, grabbed a set of black towels, and rocked on your feet to push back into his hips. It sounded like he barked, and he smooths it away with a cough.

“Give you an inch and you take a mile, don’t you, lovie?”

You smile, a juvenile sort of thing painting your face as you toss him the stack of cloth to cover himself while the two of you strolled the aisles.

“Why’d you get hard anyway?” you question. Your gaze zeros in on the candle section before you dart off in that direction.

John’s shoulders shrug as you bring a butterscotch and brandy three wick to his nose. It crinkles. “Too much butter. And I’m not sure.” His tongue should’ve burned in dishonesty.

“You’re a horrible liar, John.” You try a Tahitian coconut next. He hums, so you tuck it between your arms, and glance down each of the end caps of the aisles. The coast was beautifully clear.

Your hand glides down to the underneath of his buckle before you smile. “Jesus, honey, you been popping viagra every time I turn around?”

He chuckles at you, hips pushing into your palm. “No, I just enjoy this. These things—“ he clears his throat. “I want to marry you.”

The palm that teased him changes its course, pinches his cheek instead. “You should. We’d make beautiful, fat babies.”

You hear him sputter on air behind you.

a / n the aftermath

[oneluckygoose]

Look lets be honest, we all know student body president doesn’t do SHIT in high school and none of what they do affects anything for any students. With this thought in mind, would you rather vote for the preppy, annoying, “better than everyone because I believe I deserve it” girl who cheats the system you have to deal with, or the coolest girl in school who is kind to everybody and saved the world THREE TIMES because of that fucked system, and also did a sick shrimp jump at this cool party everyone was invited to without discrimination

[tojisun]

cw: john price x f!reader - older man/younger woman; 18+

john makes you feel beautiful. he dotes on you like you are his doll, splurging everything he’s got until you’re all spoiled.

“m’gonna be y’r rotten girl,” you told to him once, giggling, and john had just hummed as he gathered you in his arms, pulling you up until you’re both chest to chest. he breathed you in, his scruff tickling your jaw, his hands finding purchase along the pudge of your waist.

“i’d love you either way, baby,” john said like his words just didn’t lay waste on you.

you nodded, quiet and shy, your cheeks thrumming with warmth, and john kissed your silence away, murmuring nothings about how he could not wait to dress you up, to see you in his gifts, to fly you to spain and show you how a pretty girl should be cherished. you laughed it up, nodding to indulge him, but john always went through with his word and you found yourself in the next flight to ibiza.

it was exhilarating.

no one has ever done so much for you; no one thought you’re worth more than a 50/50 split dinner that you barely even enjoy or a quickie in a dingy parking lot because apparently a hotel was too much for a ‘casual thing.’

and sure you know you are worth more than those sucky dates, but your roster never changed and it’s like—

if they don’t like you enough, then… are you?

then john came and just. well, fuck — you know?

he’s ruined you for everyone else. he’s ruined you for anything that isn’t himself. john filled you up with fulfilled promises and went above that because he made you his sole point of focus. his priority. because somehow, you triumph over everything.

every of your whispered pleas, every quiet calls, every crooked requests — john always answered them. you are never too much for me, he said. nothing goes before you.

and who is strong enough to not fall for that? no one.

john loves vividly, and he loves you with such vastness it’s incomprehensible. john loves like this, whatever this is, was an organic sort of love; like it did not start with a messy hookup with a friend of a friend of a friend’s… dad.

(but there was something dizzying about the way your bodies clicked. how when john, apparently the mr. price, sank to his knees and flipped your skirt up, something just slotted into place.

it felt right to be there in his master’s bathroom, grasping at the hems of your skirt with shaky hands and watching on with tears in your eyes as he sucked on your clit and laid his tongue flat along your slit. it felt right to be there as he held your hips, thick fingers digging into your fat, and felt him grunting into your flesh, muffled praises slipping from his slick-sheened lips drunkenly. it felt right to beg for his fingers; to beg for more.

and god, it felt good.

so good, you were all numb in the brain, muscles shaking, satiation rolling off of you in heaps.

“shit, baby,” john murmured, cupping your jaw. “you’re so perfect.”

“mmrf?” you grunted, still nonverbal as your body caught up with the tidal waves of pleasure punched out of you.

he laughed, so soft and quiet. “yeah, you are.” he bent forward and pressed a kiss on your forehead. “might just keep you.”

he didn’t sound playful when he said this. he sounded certain, and it filled your heart up with giddiness because—

“please.”

john cooed and snuggled up beside you, pressing his bulk on your back and pulling you impossibly closer. not letting go.

not after that. not anymore.)

[gomzdrawfr]

He's the type that would go around using "missus" for everything

[mlm version here]

[cryptid-cave]

Currently thinking about a reader who, while having a full-time job and playing the part of a “real adult” pretty well for the most part, is still kind of lost and pathetic. It feels less like they’re living and more like they’re surviving, getting by on their own with just a cat for company.

Enter John Price, who’s currently on medical leave and just itching for a project. Maybe reader works at a store near his home that he shops at almost every other day, or works at the library where he goes when he needs to get out of the house. Either way, he spots this pretty little thing who clearly needs some love and guidance, preferably from a strong, gentle hand - and who better to do that than him?

Anyways, save me bossy and demanding Price with a savior complex, save me

[frenchublog]

[temeyes]

oh no,,, his hat,,,,,

[bluegiragi]

debrief.

early access + nsfw on patreon

[kayberrie]

broke: Ahsoka and Rex swap outfits and it’s horribly obvious plus fits badly

woke: Ahsoka and Rex swap outfits and look absolutely amazing in their new fits

[imomnba-x07]

It’s like they’re TRYING to give me a heart attack.

Yup I’m dead. I’m on the floor. I’m having heart palpitations. Please call an ambulance

[aestheticanimegirl15]

You want to know someone who would be an absolute menace in the kitchen? No its not Johnny who always is sneaking palmfulls of flour to throw at you or leaving flour marks on your tits or ass. No, it's not Simon who is always hovering around you and manages to stand directly in the way of every counter or ingredient you need. Kyle is actually pretty helpful, handing you what you need or taste testing it in-between wandering touches.

It's Price. Not because of anything that he does but because of what he doesn't do. He just stands there watching every move you make with crossed arms as he smokes a cigar by the only open window in the kitchen. Needless to say, it's irritating. You always tell him that if he is gonna be in the kitchen, the lest he could do is help. But he never dose, he just stands there or sits down at the dining room table like some sort of king and just watches.

Not only does it irritate you, but it's the way that he looks at you that is the real menace of the whole situation. Staring at you like you are a better meal than the one you're preparing. He keeps raking his eyes over you in a way that makes you squirm because you know exactly what he's looking at. It makes you feel like some sort of meek housewife whose only purpose in life is to serve her husband. Which at times doesn't seem like such a bad idea, until it's like this.

The way he just watches you makes a heat bloom in your core, as another one blooms in your cheeks. It makes you squirm as you stir the sizzling vegetables in the cast iron, thighs pressing together underneath the (his) shirt you were wearing. He knows what he's doing too, wearing such a cocky smirk on his lips that makes you not able to decide if you want to smack him or kiss him. But he never acts on the way he's making you feel. Oh no, he waits until after the two of you are done eating.

He knows you won't fight it when he pulls you into his lap once you finish cleaning the table off. The bastard knows how worked up he made you from all his staring. He'll mumble something about desert, and if you actually made one, he'll shake his head

"Not the desert. I'm wanting, sweetheart." He'll reply, and then next thing you know he's got, you splayed out on the kitchen table with his head absolutely buried in your thighs. If it weren't for the fact you just fed him a full meal, you would have thought he was starving with the way he was devouring you, moaning and groaning like he was the one on the receiving end. Mumbling praises about both you and your cooking skills, no matter how good or bad they are. And he won't stop until your conculsing under him while stars dance across your vision. Then you hear the fumbling of a belt buckle and a scrape of a chair across the floor

"Now that I'm full, let's have some fun yea?"

So yea. Out of every one of them, he's the biggest menance, always making sure you're waking up the next day with a sore body and a limp.