#the price of peace

[aowski]

The Price of Peace

[books-in-a-storm]

Romance A Day🌹

The Price Of Peace, M.L. Nystrom

[simonbrain]

you rarely call price by his first name. it's usually just a very cheery cap! or a stoic price when you need to remind him of the objective, but whenever you do call him john—you tried jonathan once as a joke, and the piercing stare he gave you made that the first and last time—it's warm, earnest. you almost seem shy uttering it, judging by the softness of your voice, but he calms your nerves with a fond look and an affectionate squeeze on the back of your neck.

getting the privilege of calling soap by his first name, let alone johnny, was an accomplishment in itself. you noticed how ghost was the only one who called him johnny, and so you took that as a sign to never refer to him as anything other than his ridiculous callsign and occasionally an incredulous bloody hell, mactavish, whenever he says something outrageous.

until you did slip up one night, but soap didn't seem to mind too much. he quite liked how his first name sounded in your voice, and when he offered you to call him johnny instead, which you mumbled under your breath to test it out, his surprised expression morphed into a genuine smile, one so pretty a rush of energy zipped through you. now, he won't let you call him anything except johnny—pretty much threatens you.

gaz was the first one on the team who allowed you to call him by his first name. hearing you mumble a tired morning, kyle or a warning but unserious kylie... when he's being a little shit makes his day a little brighter. you'd think the two of you were good mates with many years of friendship under your belts with the way you mock and poke at each other—especially when he lets you get away with calling him the most ridiculous pet names, like pookie, of all things.

while you seem to maintain good relations with your team, close ones even, there's just one person who stumps you. one big, enigmatic bastard who gives you creepy looks and speaks in nothing but cryptic language.

it honestly feels like your lieutenant dislikes you; no wonder you're still stuck with calling him by his callsign.

(poor ghost has been waiting for weeks for those plush lips of yours to utter his name. not ghost, not lieutenant or sir, but simon.

it's getting painful how oblivious you are to his attempts at giving you the green light to use his first name; the hard stare he gives you after hearing yet another formal greeting fall from your lips only seems to make you straighten up even more, and the annoyance radiating off of him every time you call him ghost scares you further away from him.

you're so formal with him, and he doesn't know what else to do—he just wants to be called a cute stupid nickname, too.)

[specialagentartemis]

“young witch trying to solve the mystery of her neighbor’s missing cat in a small village in the Alps” continues to be hilarious don’t get me wrong but it’s kind of making me want to take a crack at treating the concept seriously. In this insular rural community, a cat goes missing. A young woman who takes her community’s professed ideals of helpfulness and harmony in witchcraft seriously volunteers to try to find him. Realizes the more she searches and the more she asks around that everyone in this idyllic village is quietly seething with resentment against their neighbors and against the world, that the insularity of her village is harboring a festering social rot that no one is allowed to address. No one can leave. The hills have fallen silent. Something is eating the cats and no one is allowed to address this. Ötzi is there

[joylessnightsky]

Phantom, High Chief of the Infinite Lands. Because procrastination.

Look, I‘m no artist. I know the eyebrows are weird, and so are the eyes. This is the best I can do, though, so it’s all I have. It honestly? Could be way worse.

Here’s our boy without the ceremonial paint:

And these were the references I used:

I was going to learn for my exam tomorrow. Instead, I ended up making a map for the fanfic I'm currently writing over on AO3. Why? Because I saw one (1) comment mentioning they'd like one. Do I regret it? No. No, I do not. I should go sleep now, though. So. yeah. I'll just leave this here.

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

In memory of Roger Corman, who passed at the age of 98...

As requested by @algusunderdunk, this gif collection of Corman and Vincent Price's work over the years.

Rest in peace, sir. You're a legend. Tell Vincent we say hi.

[erosology]

There’s just something so attractive about listening to someone talk about a topic that they’re knowledgeable in, and history professor John Price is as dangerously handsome as they come

❀ cw/tw: AFAB reader (femme anatomy, femme pet names), Professor!John Price, age gap, barely proofread, corruption kink, Price masturbates to the thought of Reader teehee

History is normally such a monotonous subject, all just memorization of dates and events that have the same general plot but different casting. But Professor John Price has a way of capturing attention. And no, it has nothing to do with just how devastatingly good he looks with a pair of thin-wire glasses on the bridge of his nose, cerulean eyes peeking over the frames as his muscular motions to the board full of dates behind him. Nor does it have anything to do with his penchant for wearing white button up shirts that are always just a little on the small side, fabric stretching across a broad chest and a few dark hairs poking up from the unbuttoned collar; slacks that hug his thighs in a way that leave very little to the imagination. And it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he has a mesmerizing voice—strong, easily carries over the lecture hall and captures the attention of even the most disinterested student, smoky like the cigars you can sometimes smell on your papers after he’s handed them back to you with a neat red A in the corner.

Okay, so maybe all of that contributes a little to your newly found passion for history.

Price’s class is one of the more popular ones on campus for a reason, after all, and everyone is interested in the enigmatic professor. His ring finger is always bare, and though that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s single by any means, most take that as a green light to send some flirtatious looks and remarks his way after class in an attempt to get a better grade. His love of military and war history is apparent with just how deep his knowledge goes in those particular parts of the subject, and especially with the socioeconomic effects of whatever war is the current topic.

“Truth is the first casualty of war, after all,” he said one day during a lecture that made you think there’s so much more to his love of military history than a degree and paycheck.

Which is exactly how you end up hanging around his desk one day after class, leaning on the wood, eyes never leaving his face as he continues on talking about the ripple effect that had to line up perfectly to kick off the events of the first World War. You aren’t dumb, you’re a straight-A student after all, and even worse is that Professor Price knows you aren’t dumb, but if he keeps getting the perfect view of your innocent face gazing up at him as if he’s reciting Edward Gibbon’s The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire from memory then he’ll treat you as the dumb little bimbo you’re trying to desperately to play.

It takes every bit of self-control to keep his large, experienced hands to himself, no matter how much your eyes scream “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” because you play the role too fucking well. Elbows pushed together so the low cut t-shirt you’ve conveniently decided to wear today barely covers the swell of your breasts; cardigan hanging loosely around your shoulders, and Price has to fight the urge to pull the sides up to properly cover you; skirt swaying around your legs so temptingly; mary jane high heels bringing showing off your calves in a way that makes Price want to kiss them as he throws your legs over his broad shoulders; glossy lips wrapped around your pen as you nod along to his words, eyes so big and sweet lined with the perfect amount of eyeliner and framed with mascara. You’re sin and temptation wrapped up in a heart-wrenchingly gorgeous package, complete with a bow atop your head. He wants to corrupt you, wants to see how pretty you look with your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he splits you open on his cock, wants to feel how soft and plush your thighs are as he bounces you on his lap, needs to see you covered in his marks and begging for more. Fucking god, he needs you so cock-drunk and hungry off of him that no one else can satiate your appetite. You wouldn’t even be tempted by anyone else. He could take care of you, fulfill all of your needs. A pretty little thing like you deserves to be bed and wed and spoiled rotten so the only muscles you’d be moving is your—

Your cellphone ringing brings both of you back to reality, and it dawns on you on close your bodies are, as if discussing the political history of war is fucking foreplay for you two. It might as well be with how Price is looking at you with hungry eyes, pupils blown so wide that there’s only a cerulean ring around blackholes, tongue flicking out at his lip and his chest inflating as he takes in a calming breath.

“Right then, on you go,” he all but out right growls as you pull your phone out of your pocket. “We’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

“But, sir—” (he tries his best to ignore the way his neglected cock throbs at the title) “I don’t have your class again until Thursday.”

“I’m aware.”

Later that night, his hand and the thought of those fucking tempting eyes of your gazing up at him can’t even get him off, no matter how tightly he fists his cock, how much he moans your name, how desperately he moves his hand up and down himself. It’s not enough. He needs you, even if his attraction to you is morally questionable at best.

[nekrosmos]

Sleepy Nikolai inspired my this lovely fic by @on-a-lucky-tide because this truly rewired my brain <3

And a small blushing Price under keep reading to go with it

[gomzdrawfr]

:3c

Awhile ago I made this and saw this reblog by @buttdumplin

so I got to it

[longmaxsilvarg]

something about the main menu for life is strange genuinely makes me wanna collapse and sob

[sgt-tombstone]

Soap: I told Price his ears flush when he lies.

Gaz: Why?

Soap: Look.

Soap: Hey Captain! Do you love us?

Price, covering his ears: No.

Gaz: ...

Soap: I’m the captain’s favorite

Gaz: No, I was here first, I’m the favorite

Ghost: Hey Cap, care to weigh in?

Price: I don’t play favorites

Gaz: But it’s definitely me, though, right?

Price, pulling his boonie hat down to cover his ears: …no

Soap: *incomprehensible noises of Scottish outrage*

Gaz: *cackling*

[cod-dump]

Price: Nikolai. A word.

Nik: Yes?

Price: What d'you call this?

Price: *pulls Graves over*

Graves: *visibly ruffled, lips very pink, definite marks forming under his jaw and around his throat band*

Nik: Ah... I call it reinforcing good relations between our forces :)

Price:

Nik: It's fun, you should try it.

Price: Nik! I do--that is not--I am--!

Graves: Aww you tellin me you don't want us to get along, Captain?

Price: *glares at him*

Price: *glares at Nik*

Price: CAN YOU AT LEAST DO IT OFF-DUTY????

[devil-in-hiding]

Absolutely love On the Run! I can't stop thinking of this, it's been days, please.

Price taking Grimes and the truck out around the property to fix the fence/well and sees recent fixes farmer!Reader clearly did in her years on the farm. The works well done if not a little innovative due to any physical difference she dealt with. I'm feral for a Price feral for a competent and creative !reader. He's hit with an overwhelming feeling of pride and scuffs at himself cuz of course, this is just adding to the long list of things she's impressed him, (first on that list? her ass) Rubs one out before getting to work.

Ghost started fixing up the house and barn. Constantly at every corner of the house looking for repairs he can busy himself with. But, finding little art projects painted around... Basically the property. Farmer!reader gets bored and paints little things around the house. A mouse hole door with a little welcome sign under the table or hidden in the kitchen. Ladybugs and other bugs with little trailers or flowers. He fucking lives for them, starts looking just to find them all. Gets a little pouty when soap finally notices the many little hidden paintings in the barn and runs to the others without a thought. The secrets out(wasn't a secret) but only he knows where they all are(so he thinks)

Soap finds a second home in the barn, Sebastian and soap end up getting along really well, like brothers shoving each other as he brushes him or moves seb out to clean the pins. Has the energy to keep up with all the chores so many animals comes with easily. Soap, Maggie and Judy move the sheep and goats together like a dream team. He's just able to understand them ina way! Finally sees the blue jay painted to be perched on the light panel in the equipment room, the one of sebs name plate even weeks later ( he's actually the last to know about it. Price saw it that first night, gaz a few days in checking the lights out and ghost around the same time already started on his hunt of them.)

Gaz is getting on top of how everything works around the property, helping ghost with the electric around the property or improving farmer!readers current systems or files(like it was fine before, worked great! but this will be even easier, smoother and faster, better.) Has the crops schedule and planed out for when the tractor is running. Gaz is Judy's favorite(I don't make the rules), all the dogs love him, hes so good at petting them and loving them but absolutely spoils Judy with kisses and head pets. Eventually she's just basically attached to hip and it's just two pretty princesses hanging out 24/7. Fuck that man would look so good smiling with a pretty dog in the sun😫😫

c’mere, let me give you a forehead smooch-

i am in love with these and very much tend to incorporate them in, you are a godsend bless you bless you bless you

[tanked-up]

The 141 in Jail

————————————

Price: I can’t believe I’m stuck with you 3 nut jobs, and for what! WHY’D YOU HAVE TO HIT THAT GUARD, SOAP!

Soap now yelling: HE MOCKED MY MOHAWK

Price: IT’S JUST A MOHAWK

Gaz in the background: His Mohawk’s sick, Price.

Soap: Pft. Also it wasn’t my fault. It was Ghost’s

(Ghost eyeing down the officer who’s doing rounds checking each cells)

Ghost: You think that if I throw this knife it’ll go right through his throa-

Price: SIMON PLEASE

Ghost: WHAT! NO ONE’S COMING FOR US

Soap: We gotta plan our escape… and fast

Gaz: I dunno… I kinda like it here

(They all stare at Gaz)

Price: What did you say?

Soap: I knew jail would change us

Ghost: Let’s just leave him

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price with director Roger Corman (1960-64)

[jununy]

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