#price as a father figure

[yeyinde]

the morally questionable relationship between John Price and the darling little starlet he picks up off of the street during the golden age of Hollywood would be such a treat.

because producer!John Price is known as the best of the best in Hollywood. He has an eye for talent, they say, and a keen ability for spotting the diamonds amongst the rubble.

And of all the stars in the world, he sets his sights on you. Pretty little thing. Bright and blinding—Betelgeuse glimmering on the precipice of a supernova. All you need is a little push. A backer. A chance. And he gives it to you. Ushers you into stardom with a crooked grin around the butt of a cigar and a wicked gleam in his eyes that you—in all your artless, sheltered naivete—chalk up to pride.

The problem with sweet little darlings like you is that they all sing the same song. Yearn for the same thing. And it's so easy to mistake his interest as fatherly when the name on your birth certificate reads John Doe. And when he tells you his name is John Price, well—

It's fate, isn't it?

He told you he's been married once but had no children, and the longing in his eyes must be for the family he's never got a chance to have. So, you promise to give it to him.

Problem is: the devil lives in Hollywood and drinks his whiskey neat. You told him you'd be his family, giving him the one that left him behind. Signed your soul to blue eyes for the big screen.

Not that you'd know this, of course. To you, John is a sad widower with a heart of gold. Your overprotective bear who snarls at the directors and actors who get a little too handsy with you on set. His darling little star.

It's easy to wave everyone off when they express concern about these blurring lines between employee and employer. Boss and—

Father figure.

They just don't know him like you do.

And how funny, you tell him one evening with a wry twist to your lips, eyes swimming with sheltered mischief. They thought we were lovers, Mr Price. Isn't that just the damnedest thing?

This little quip has the opposite effect, and if only you looked a little bit closer at the gleam in his eye, the clench in his jaw, you might have seen the storm gathering on the horizon before it hit. Instead of laughing with you at the director's gall, this hilarious joke, John feels you slipping through his fingers just a little bit more. And that simply won't do.

You want a father figure? Then fine. That's what he'll be. Convenient, of course, because he's been thinking about fatherhood a lot lately, too. It's only natural that he decides to cash in on that promise you made all those years ago to make him a proud dad.

[cod-dump]

Ghost: We need a distraction

Nik: Allow me

Ghost: Sorry, Nik. Price said not to let you do any more distractions

Nik: I insist

Ghost: No-

Nik: Simon

Ghost: Do not use my name-

Nik: Simon Riley

Ghost: NO-

(Later)

Price: WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT LETTING NIK DO DISTRACTIONS?! THE TOWN IS A WRECK

Ghost: He used my full name, what was I supposed to do? Disappoint him??

Price:

[postmortemnivis]

could be read as a part two of this post

“when i met you,” price started, “you were a mess of a man.”

simon grunted in response, his arms crossed over his chest almost as if he wanted to protect, shield himself from price’s words. each cut deeper than knives, aiming straight for the strong walls he’d built around his heart, the ones that only you had been able to tear down.

a mess of a man. he knew it, he didn’t need to hear about it too.

“at first, i honestly didn’t think you were going to ever become someone.” the older man admitted.

johnny’s laughter could be heard from the living room, where he and kyle were chatting about god knows what, probably the last poor girl johnny shagged in a bathroom stall at a pub the previous night.

“you didn’t?”

price shook his head. “as i said, a mess of a man, simon.”

a mess of a man. simon knew himself, he knew he was no saint, no good: he was a murderer, the angel of death that could be seen in the middle of the field, his dark glow foretelling the end of anyone who found himself in the middle of his bloody path. his hands were stained with the blood of many, the same hands he refused to touch you with; the only thing that kept him sane was knowing he wasn’t ghost, ghost’s crimes were shielded from simon by his black gloves and balaclava.

simon looked at price as his hand rested on his shoulder. he remembered what it felt to be neglected by his own father, and price knew it. price always seemed to know everything about his boys, he could see right through him. what simon needed was guidance, and price would’ve given it to him.

“nothing to be ashamed of,” he continued, “most of you boys are, you seek for something more. think of johnny, he enlisted when he was sixteen. you enlisted the day of your eighteenth birthday. we all know that if you’re a responsible man you don’t run to the army. we’re all crazy, messed up men.”

price also knew they were reckless, a suicidal loyalty bound to him. after all, their job attracted the beasts, the outcasts, the sadists, the worst of society.

simon rolled his eyes when price referred to them as boys. the man was less than ten years older than simon, but he still felt the paternal pressure and instinct to protect the boys. his boys.

“wha’ made you change your mind?”

price motioned simon to move further into the kitchen, away from the people that were invited to his house.

“her.”

your voice echoed as you walked out of the bathroom, letting johnny finally hold his little niece. gary was walking behind you with the brightest smile on his face. kyle made a comment about how the three weeks old baby looked just like you, with simon’s dark eyes and pale blonde hair. if only he knew you helped simon bleach it every month and a half, him sat on the edge of the bathtub and you standing between his thighs, his hands firm on your waist as he—for once—looked up at you instead the other way round.

you agreed with a chuckle, looking around for simon.

“look a’ the lassie, she’s already an uncles gal!” johnny’s laughter filled the flat. from the corner of his eyes, simon could see the person he’d grown to call his brother hold his newborn daughter.

“her?” he looked at you, the softest and most subtle smile crawling on his scarred face. simon struggled to hold back his smirk.

price nodded. “i remember we all could tell that you met someone. you’d become less… rigid. you’d smile more, were more clement with the recruits.”

“she changed me.” simon shrugged, attempting to hide the smile that would try to crawl on his face anytime he’d think about you. even after years, between a marriage and now a child, his eyes would light up at your thought alone. that’s the impact, the effect you had on him.

“that’s good, simon.” price spoke. “we’re all happy you’re doing better. we remember how you used to-”

“okay, got the message.” simon interrupted him. “loud an’ clear, john.”

his life before you seemed so distant and he almost couldn’t remember of a time where you weren’t by his side yet. like a far away dream, closer to a nightmare than a dream, but still something that didn’t look like the life he was living now. he didn’t need to remember a bit of it, what was the use? he had you now, everything before the day you met didn’t matter anymore, it didn’t exist anymore.

price sighed, looking to the ceiling as he tried to find something in his pocket. “coming outside for a smoke?”

simon shook his head, arms crossed over his chest. “nah, capt. quit a while ago.”

it’d been months since you’d showed him the pregnancy test that shook his whole world. he’d fallen to his knees in the middle of the courtyard, surrounded by worried recruits, johnny immediately sprinting close enough to check whether his lieutenant was okay but far enough to give you two privacy.

“promise me ‘m not dreamin’.” he murmured, pulling you closer by wrapping his arms around your waist, hiding his face in your chest.

you brushed his short blond hair back, biting your lip as you smiled. you could feel your eyes tingling, tears threatening to spill at any given minute. “you’re not, si. we’re gonna be parents.”

you chuckled, leaning down to kiss his head and felt your white work shirt getting wet by his tears. you looked around at the faces of the confused recruits, and you smiled, because you knew you were the only person who’d ever truly know how the scary lieutenant, the ghost, really was.

“we are.” he whispered before kissing your still flat stomach, getting back up and giving you a soft kiss on the forehead. “thank you.”

in the nine months he’d been taking care of you like a person on their deathbed—really not necessary, si, i can still do the dishes by myself—he’d stopped smoking, and treated himself to just one beer every first sunday of the month.

he had worked on himself, hard.

for you and for your daughter. he wanted to be a better person, a good man. he wanted to be nothing like his father, that having haunted and scared him for so long and being the main reason he always tried to postpone having children, what truly held him back, but he tried to be a better man.

that was what distinguished him from his father, he tried to be better.

leaving the military was sure next, after fixing the downstairs bathroom faucet and oil the doorknob of the closet. he wondered how the boys would take it, but in the end he didn’t really care, he knew they’d understand.

“quit.” price repeated, eyebrows raised as he put his lighter back in pocket. he wasn’t a social smoker, but knew better than to smoke near a baby, even if he would’ve excused himself to the balcony.

simon smiled as he heard you scold johnny for throwing the little girl in the air. “what if you drop her?”

“ah wid never, lass.” he reassured you, laughing at the slap he got on his scruff.

“you’re a good man, simon.” prices hand found its way on simon’s shoulder again. “you went through a lot, but you’re still fighting for a good cause, you didn’t let it change you. that’s what makes you a good man.”

simon was about to deny, say he wasn’t, he was the worst man there was, but then you walked into the kitchen, all smiles.

“hey si.” you smiled. “baby’s hungry.”

simon immediately stretched out his arms to hold the baby, a bottle already in his hands as soon as those words left your plush lips, your lashes batting up at him.

you wrapped your arms around one of his strong biceps and smiled up at him and then at price.

“cute, isn’t she?”

“is indeed.” john nodded, smiling under his thick moustache.

before he decided to leave the kitchen to leave you three some privacy and join the boys in the living room, where johnny had apparently put on a rugby match—“scotland-wales, for fucks sake, lad!”—he shot simon one final knowing glance.

simon returned the look, your eyes too focused on the little girl in her charcoal grey onesies to notice.

“you okay, si?” you whispered, but your husband's eyes were unfocused, staring off into space as price’s words kept replaying in his head like a broken record.

he nodded, kissing your forehead almost instinctively. “yes, love.”

you smiled up at him and then at your daughter, simon’s mind travelling an hundred miles an hour, waiting to crash on itself and get brought back to reality. price’s words echoed in the background of his brain, quieter each second that passed.

a good man.

tagging who asked:

@mr-sol @v1x3n @m4dyy @softangelheart @redzluvvesage @nittoka

[shanklin]

Unlike post-canon Stan, Mullet Stan gives the worst life advices, he'll look at Shellfish Stan drowing in self-hatred and say “Some people are just unlovable, kid, but it's okay, we don't need their love, we don't need anyone, we'll make it on our own and shove it in their faces. Or die trying. Whatever fate decides to throw at us.”

Selfish Shellfish AU - Masterpost

Mullet Stan says this and little Shellfish Stanley nods and agrees, at least with the being unlovable part. 

He’s not so sure about the not needing love part.

Love feels more necessary than breathing when he lies awake at night desperately hoping someone will come hold him until he falls asleep. 

But he has to trust Stan if he wants to survive all on his own as soon as he gets back to his own timeline. Stan has been at this for longer, is smarter and stronger and a better person. 

This Stanley Pines might be a criminal as well, but only out of necessity. Unlike Stanley, Stan has never killed a person. He is still capable of redeeming himself and Stanley suspects if Stan gets all the money he lost his family and apologises really really well, his Stanford might end up liking him again. 

Stan is also a really nice person, taking care of Stanley even though he hates him like everyone else. He even promised to help him get back home.

Stanley makes a mental note not to tell Stan that he’s habouring a murderer. Even someone as kind as Stan would abendon him if he knew.

Stanley almost takes Stan’s hand and asks if it would be okay for him to just stay in this dimension instead. They can love and take care of each other, but he thinks better of it. He’d just be a burden to Stan and what if he hurts Stan like he did his father? 

So he just nods and watches as Stan gathers up the courage to call his Stanford and ask for help getting him home.

Meanwhile Mullet Stan, 10 minutes after meeting the little Shellfish:

Shit shit shit shit shit shit WHY DID I SAY THAT?! Why the fuck did I say that? THIS KID IS THE SWEETEST MOST LOVABLE THING IN THE MULTIVERSE. What is wrong with me? I’m so horrible. The kid is better off without me D:

[faustianblank]

Can someone write a story where John Price meets readers biologically father? Or at least some fan art? I’m curious how that would go.

Father figure (John Price) meets (Sperm donor- jk) Father.

[xerthsfantazies]

sometimes all we need is captain Price .

for your information, my favourite charachte is and always was, our captain Price

[manchblack]

frank pricely is genuinely one of the most underrated hatchetfield characters to me. he's SO interesting on all fronts and i feel like people barely talk about it?

his jaded world view warped by capitalism. his exasperated yet fond dynamic with lex. his friendship with miss holloway. his possible supernatural ties. literally everything going on with the sherman situation???

if you guys don't blorbo-fy this man I WILL, damnit.

[vataro-ko]

Father Figure.

[deadgenres]

thinking about how they would either get along or have the worst beef known to mankind

[herculeese]

OK .

YOU CAN'T TELL ME THEY'RE NOT TWINNING .

[its-the-ratdawg]

Hannibal memes Vol 1

Mostly season one because I’m rewatching the show. Enjoy!!!

[python333]

i probably should've expected y'all would vote for him 😭 be prepared for captain price & reader fic soon then :3 coming out hopefully by today or tomorrow if everything goes to plan

[small-writer-back-up]

I had an idea last night. I’m curious about what Price and Simon’s relationship was when they first started to work together and how Simon came to trust Price.

anyway I may have started a mini series lol

[boygirlctommy]

ok no maybe im fucking overthinking this but rose retired because he was *going* to be a dad, not that he already was one. price was obviously already born, hes the older kid, not the one the woman was currently pregnant with. hes not rose's son. hes rose's almost-step-son

[silverhands-slut]

am i a john price girl or a john price slut? more at never

[jojotier]

Ohhh just thought of something diabolical for the dried up desert post apocalypse one