#pricing details

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

CW: dubcon (kind of??? Idk)

There's this conversation going around,

"If you invite me over to your place as a first date, I'm stealing something from your house to teach you a lesson about inviting random women to your place."

And I think this is hilarious, just imagine what 141 would think/do:

Soap: He doesn't notice when something is missing. It'll take weeks until Kyle points it out,

"Johnny, where's your PlayStation?"

He's immediately infatuated, he thinks you love him. You like him so much you needed to take his PS5 as a piece to remember him by, how sweet. Of course he's gonna return the favor by breaking into your place and bringing all his shit with him. You walk into your flat to find him wearing nothing but his boxers playing GTA,

"Hi doll, whan's dinner?"

Gaz: Pissed off to no ends. You took his fucking Amiri shirt, he just got that! He's hunting you down and when he busts through your door seeing you wear nothing but his shirt, he freezes. He can't help himself after that. You'll be squirming under him, cursing and spitting, while he pins your hands above your head with a crazed look in his eyes,

"If you wanted an excuse to see me again, should've just said that."

Price: Now he knows it wasn't gentlemanly to not take you out on a proper first date, but he hurt his leg and thought making a nice dinner and making you cum until you cried would suffice. Apparently not, a $600 box of cigars are gone. He's angry, hurt, confused. Poor man thought he was doing the right thing. Now he knows that you don't like when men treat you right. He'll snatch you up when you're walking home from work and tie you down to his bed. Brats get tamed, thieves get punished.

Ghost: He doesn't really have much, doesn't need much honestly. So when his switchblade is gone, he's seeing red. He curses your name while he stalks you for weeks. Blood boiling every time you laugh at a joke with your friends or sing along to some stupid song while you cook. Slowly but surely, things in your apartment start disappearing. Remotes, chargers, panties. You lose it when the plate in your microwave goes missing, changing the locks and setting up a ring camera. Simon is a smart man though, he'll wait for the perfect moment to knock on your door (when you are expecting a food delivery) and when you open the door absentmindedly, he barges in, firm grip on your throat,

"Teach you a thing or two about taking what doesn't belong to you."

[lesblizzard-ultradyke]

stupid idiots in love (pricefield on your dash in 2025?!?)

[nekrosmos]

Kissing on the battlefield 🔥​

Best quality here and lineart under keep reading !

[jagalart]

Do u do dog portraits?

I absolutely do! <3 I love to draw all sorts of pets.

[pansylair]

HI, I seriously love your stuff so much, and was wondering if you're going to have any originals for sale soon?

Thanks so very much!!! <3

All featured here is currently available at Jonathon’s Gallery and I have a decent amount of bisqued work to get through, most probably in the $100cad or less range.

my rough timeline is (finally) selling merch online and getting through order fulfilment for a week as I’m finally done exhibition prep. It should be set to go in a few days!

About the first week and a half or two of November will be dedicated to getting that bisque decorated and fired + made available, then I’ll switch gears back to merch sales in prep for the holidays :)

[annqer]

Penacony welcomes you!! Only now for the low low price of your soul, you too can spend your life in the land of dreams!!

[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."

[laswells-ashtray]

Sometimes Nikolai forgets John's favourite colour, he isn't sure if it's some kind of blue or green. But he can tell you about the mole in the crook of John's right elbow and how the Englishman is weirdly insecure about it. Or about how going down John's shoulder, there's a line of freckles that slowly get smaller and at almost looks like an art piece.

John can't always tell you Nikolai's favourite movie or tv show. Sometimes, it changes, and he can never quite keep track. But he can tell you exactly where the patches of skin pigmentation on Nikolai's body are. They're pale like birthmarks, but they've appeared randomly throughout the years, and he has them memorised. There's one directly under Nikolai's right arse cheek, his personal favourite. And three of them across the centre of his chest.

[scarland-artbook]

📆 Save the date! 📌

Starting on April 12th - get your own physical copy of the Scarland Artbook! Pre-orders will close on May 12.

International shipping available! 🎆

🎨🎆 Background art by @cocoabats

[fossilpaw]

🎼siblings, siblings siblings siblings!🎼

[archiveofliterature]

every day i become more convinced letty fetishised ramy bc tell me why i just found out that the royal pavilion is in brighton which is WHERE LETTY'S FROM

btw the royal pavilion looks like THIS

rf kuang really chose her details right bc letty could've been from anywhere in england but no she was like let me pick brighton where a prominent example of orientalism architecture was built

[nekrosmos]

Slightly less cropped version here

Little follow up to my Nik covered in blood piece. Price is taking care of Nikolai after the fight, a little bit of aftercare under a hot shower for the man he loves 🐻​🫂​

[coolguyontheblock]

Rupert doodles my angel

[suddenly-stickmin]

GUYS!!!!!! CHECK OUT THESE SCREENSHOTS I TOOK FROM THIS SUPER SECRET STICK DATING SIM GAME?!?!?!

HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYYYYYYY here are the edits without the text boxes! <3 <3 <3

[creampuffqueen]

sorry for putting a weirdly long photo on your dash + even more riftposting but. oh my fucking god. i’m gonna be sick. this comic was created before any of the avatar novels. and here yangchen is. hesitating and not answering while looking absolutely devastated when aang asks about breaking promises with spirits. F.C YEE WHEN I FUCKING CATCH YOU—