#kid in an army t shirt

[boys-with-gunss]

"Wait. 'One, two, three, go' or 'one, two, go'? Like one, two, three, go-'

"Either we shoot on four or we shoot on three."

"Three or four?"

"Everyone shoots on four, you know?"

"So it's like 'one, two, three' shoot, right?"

"Right, so like 'one, two, three,' bang."

"Yeah, not 'one, two' bang. Okay I got you."

"One... two... three..."

*sigh*

"Shots fired."

[ghouljams]

I am going to keep slutting Ghost out, he deserves it. Respectfully. But also the man cannot dress himself, he has no drip. He's got 20 black t-shirts, he's got jeans and fatigues and that's it. He thinks skull and skeleton motifs are cool. Soap and Gaz get him a skeleton sweatshirt/sweatpants fit as a gag gift and laugh themselves hoarse when he wears them around the base.

I'm not saying he doesn't look so fucking good in a black tee and fatigues, but the man does not have style. Not on purpose. He wears his usual black tee and maybe some black cargo pants, wanders around town in his big army boots and gets stopped by goth kids and tech/streetwear folks. He doesn't know what the fuck they're complimenting him for. He doesn't know why they're talking to him. He tells Gaz about it and Gaz almost chokes on his drink, has to call Soap over to hear this. Ghost doesn't know fashion trends, he doesn't care, he's going to keep doing what he's doing.

[luke-o-lophus]

In Your Image, In My Eye

Marc Spector x Reader (Minors DNI)

TW: Allusions to child abuse and neglect, and to past eating disorders (nothing descriptive), body image issues, very minor talk of food controls, mentions of sexual activities and some innuendos

Prompt by @apollo-enthusiast: Imagine settling down with the moon boys, just living a calm and stable life without khonshu to bother you. You bake and cook a lot, and are really good at it. As a result, Marc gains a bit of weight and now has a little tummy. You catch him judging himself in the mirror one day, maybe fighting over it with steven and jake, maybe they're feeling the same way, and find out he's feeling insecure about it and needs some love

Word count: 1541

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"For the thousandth time, Steven, we have the same body."

Marc sounds exasperated. He looks exasperated. Just out of shower and towel wrapped low on his hips, he usually doesn't spend this long in front of the full length mirror in your shared bedroom. But today, Steven got his attention. "You still look handsome", he'd muttered. And refused to budge when Marc pointed out the obvious.

"You don't get it. I've got this...ugh", Steven hides his face in their shared headspace. "This thing. I have a..a pooch belly."

Marc mentally groans and pinches his forehead. "Steven I can assure you we're doing fine", he grunts.

"Are we though Marc, are we?" Steven throws up his hands. "Look at this." He incredulously points to his midsection. Marc tilts his head with a raised eyebrow. Steven's fashion in the mindspace is similar to when he's fronting. All Marc can see is the body swimming in a shirt three or four sizes too large, in a pattern that hurts his eyes.

"Steven I literally can't see anything", he sighs and turns to remove his towel and start getting dressed. That's when he sees it. A soft..chunky roll in his belly as he bends to pick up his t-shirt. He slowly turns back to the mirror, shirt in hand, and pokes his finger in his belly. Nearly two segments of the finger sink in easily, and the flesh springs back as he removes his hand. Marc's never seen anything like it on his own body.

Here's the thing. Marc Spector in the past has never really eaten. He's consumed food in order to sustain. In the army and as a merc, he had standard rations and a standard body type he had to maintain. And before that, he had always been a skinny kid. It's no secret he wasn't exactly nurtured at home. And he's even starved himself to points where Jake has had to step in to take care of the body. Until quite recently, actually. Until he met you. Or rather, three months into meeting you.

You'd brought a tupperware of chocolate cupcakes to your fifth date. You were meeting after nearly a month, a month of thinking Marc is going to ghost you. That day Marc came bearing a harrowed guilty face, and you came bearing cupcakes. Who does that? Marc wondered as he bit into one. And almost forgot to chew. It already tasted so, so good he stared at you with wide eyes. You giggled bashfully, a shy finger wiping away ganache from the side of his lip. Later that night those same lips had devoured you over and over until all the tension of the month prior was forgotten.

It had never even occurred to Marc it is possible for the body to gain some stomach fat. And it damn well had never crossed his mind, that would be what's bothering him when he looks at his reflection. But here he is. He can almost hear Jake groaning somewhere in the depths of the mindspace. A groan of "Here we go again".

They moved into your apartment a month later. Steven still kept his, and turned it into a library slash workspace for them. Your place was home. With your warmly lit study, kitchen that always smelled good, the eclectic wooden chandelier in the living room, and the twelve pillows on your queen bed: it was a better home than marc had ever seen himself living in. And then there was you. Who had given him so much love, so much grace, so much understanding. Because of him, you had moved away the large full body mirror to your study the day before he had moved in. The men liked having mirrors around, mirrors made it easier to communicate, but just...smaller ones. It took Marc a long time to be able to look at all the scars and marks on the body without feeling sick in his stomach. The day he asked if you could move the mirror to the bedroom to make dressing up easy, you'd hugged him and kissed him silly. And later baked a batch of apple tarts as a treat.

"Maaarc what's taking you long?" your call sounds impatient. He can hear faint muttering coming closer and your head appears in the doorway. Marc's instinct is to quickly cover his torso with the t-shirt in his hand, almost letting loose an embarrassing squeak.

"You haven't dressed? We gotta do a grocery run quick or we'll get very late for lunch!" you whine with your hands on your hips.

"I don't want lunch", Marc mumbles and you pause in the midst of your woeful rant of delayed lunches.

"What..why? Is your stomach upset? I told you that fish tasted funky, Marc, I swear.." you immediately start fussing over him, coming close and checking his forehead for a temperature.

"No..no...I'm fine. Just ... not hungry" he shakes his head away.

You were familiar with Marc's 'not hungry'. It could mean a lot of things, but very rarely the fact that he actually wasn't hungry.

"Everything alright, bubba?" you ask, hand moving down to caress his cheek. Marc sighs and smiles wryly,"Yeah..yeah don't worry. It's just...it's silly..."

You raise your brows in question, egging him to go on. "It's just...I have this thing.." he rubs his neck and moves the tshirt from his torso slowly, as if revealing the deepest darkest secrets. You blink owlishly at the display, then back up at him. "Honey...uh..I'm sorry but....what am I..looking at?" you ask.

"This!", Marc almost whines, poking indignantly at his belly. You look just as lost, helplessly staring. "Does it..hurt there or something?" you offer with concern.

Marc doesn't look convinced so you prod a little further, asking if that's something that feels uncomfortable or just...looks different to him. "I..I've always been skinny...before the army and the...Khonshu." he sighs, head hanging. "Didn't really have someone cooking me a three course meal every time."

"No...I'm...I have...this..." he bends over to a side and pinches his tummy roll between his fingers. You stare at that for a few moments before it clicks. "Oh honey", you call with adoration, gently prying away those fingers and kissing the tips. "But your tummy looks so nice. So healthy. You look so nice and healthy"

You take a cautious pause at that, almost hurt for a moment. Marc catches onto it quick, and stumbles directly into an apology. "No..no...that came out wrong. I love that you cook, I love everything you make, I'm so grateful. You're..., baby..please..."

It always breaks your heart when Marc apologizes, because of the way he does it. He says sorry for a simple slip of tongue as if you'd be packing your bags and running off before he had a chance to finish his sentence. So you smile at him, a cheeky little smile.

"You like my cakes?" you ask him innocently, a playful glint in your eye.

"Huh? Of course I do...yeah? The...the one you made on my birthday, and...and.."

"No no no...", you stop him, moving closer. "I mean, do you like my cakes" You give your butt a playful wiggle. Marc stops in his tracks, then groans at that awful joke. "Babe!" he groans. You giggle and wrap your arms around him. Your head nestled in the crook of his neck with practiced ease, you mumble softly,"You look great. If you feel healthy, and enjoy what you're eating....you're good. Okay?" You pause a bit then sigh. "I...I can't see you starve yourself again, bubba. It...hurts to see you like that." You still remember when Marc had showed up on your fifth date with sunken cheeks and hollow eyes, looking like he's missed half his meals the past month. It's an image you can't get out of your head: him standing with a small souvenir clutched so tight in his palm the packaging was ruined, looking all shades of tired and starved.

Marc stays quiet, but he holds on to you tight, kisses the top of your head. "What's for lunch?" he mumbles meekly after a while. You pull back and smile wide, eyes shining, and continue your grocery run rant. From the increasing price of eggs to the doubtful durability of milk, this new meatball hack you want to try, and a vegan substitute idea you'd just gotten. You follow Marc around the room as he gets dressed, talking a mile a minute. He takes a last glance at the mirror and rakes back his curls, then swiftly pulls you closer. You squeak and hold him on instinct, and he laughs softly while nuzzling the side of your face. "So...remind me the plan. We...are getting groceries, making lunch, so...after eating.." He pauses but you can hear the laugh in his voice. The laugh and the shyness.

"What, Spector?" you tease. "What do you want after lunch?"

"Well maybe you....you can show me how good you think I look?" he says hopefully. You turn around to kiss him, nodding excitedly. "Deal", you whisper, before pulling back and giggling. "I thought you're about to ask me to have you for dessert"

Marc facepalms with another groan.

[femd-archive]

THE DUMB HERO

pairing: omniscient reader's viewpoint — lee hyunsung x fem!reader

word counting: 0.9k

content warning: both hyunsung and reader are soldiers in korea's army | kinda risky sex? but not really lol | pegging | slight nipple play | reader calls hyunsung's pecs 'tits' | feminization | dumbification | hands-free cumming | mention of pregnancy | aftercare

summary: you fuck hyunsung so dumb that he thinks you got him pregnant

side note: english is not my first lenguage, so i apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes

With so little strenght, you push both of your bodies inside Hyunsung's room and close the door behind you, clumsly putting the lock on as you kept kissing your needy boyfriend.

Pulling apart, you attack Hyunsung's neck, making him bit his bottom lip. "I-I don't t-think we should do this here" he managed to say as he fights back the moans in the back of his throat.

"Why baby?" you grin against the skin of his neck. "Worried that the rookies might come back earlier? Don't worry, I send them to a 45 minutes morning run, and after that, they need to attend kitchen and laundry duties" you left another kiss on his jawline as you start to unbutton his uniform shirt. "That give us more than an hour, and I can work with that to make you feel good" you leave a little peck on his pouty lips, discarding his shirt from his body and throwing it in some part of the floor's room.

"Abuse of power" is the only thing that Hyunsung mumbles, making you chuckle as you grab him by his thick thighs.

He wraps his arms around your neck and jumps to your arms, wrapping his legs around your waist as he lets you guide the both of you to his bed and laying him in the matress.

Between lots of kisses and a few whispers of 'I love you', both of you ended up naked as you carried your pink strap-on on your hips. Hyunsung watched you with heart on his eyes as you lubed the dildo up, all while holding his legs up to his chest, waiting for you to fuck him.

"Ready, baby?" you ask, finally putting the lub bottle on the side and move between his legs. He nods cutely, making you smile and unable to resist the urge of kissing hum. Bending down, you leave a kiss on his lips which he returns. "You've been waiting for this, love?" you ask as you guide the tip of the dildo to his lubed hole.

"Yes love" he sighs dreamily, closing his eyes and throwing his head back as he feels half of it going in. "Been so good...fuck me?" he asks, looking at you with those puppy-like teary eyes. How could you say no to such a cutie?

"Gladly" you shortly answer before thrusting was left of the dildo inside of your boyfriend, smiling at the way his eyes roled back as he let out a silent gasp. "Gonna fuck you full, yeah?" you grunt, starting to move your hips on fast pace.

Soon, the room fills up with Hyunsung embarrassing moans and the sound of your thighs slapping against his ass. The bed squeaks slightly, maybe loud enough for somebody to hear if they lean over the door, but not enough to be perceive so easily.

Hyunsung wrap his strong legs around your waist, pulling you closer and not letting you go. You reach out to his pecs, squeezing them before moving your fingers to play with his nipples.

"Look at your tits baby, they're so big" you chuckle, hearing him whimper. "They would be perfect to feed babies" you simply comment before slightly slapping his right peck, resuming back your thrusts.

Through teary eyes, Hyunsung looked at you and then back at his redden tits. In his fuzzy mind, the image of forming a family with you popped surronded by flowers and rainbows. Besides the pool of pleasure that formed in his tummy, his chest also swollen with love at the thought of carrying your kids on him and, after they were born, to cradle them in his arms, breastfeeding him with his big tits.

His left hand moves to his low stomach, where his 'womb' is as you kept on fucking him.

You give the last few thrusts as you see the thick ropes of cum shot all over your boyfriend's abs and chest, smiling at his ruined state. If only his soldiers saw how pathetic their lieutenant is, but this was a sight for you only.

Leaving a kiss on his cheek, you pull out of him, earning a whimper because of the empty feeling left on him. Taking the strap-on off, you leave on the side, deciding to clean it later for you to be able to take care of your boyfriend in his state.

"You okay, baby?" you ask, leaving a kiss on his forehead as you clean the cum out of his torso.

"Mmh, feeling so full" he slurs as he softly pats his stomach, now full of your babies. "What do you want it to be? A boy or girl?" he asks, caressing his tummy with circle movements as he looks dreamily at it.

You stop your own movements for a second, looking at him in shock. He looks back at you, a loving gaze meeting yours along with his cute tired smile, and there is where it hits you. «Oh, he's completely out of it» you think to yourself, as well as something new awakens in you. It wouldn't be bad to see your adorable Hyunsung with a swollen belly walking around.

"Mmh, a boy, so I can look at a mini version of you everyday" you answer back, finishing cleaning him up and tossing the wipes into the trash can besides the bed.

"Oh ~ I also want a girl for her to have all your features, and be as beautiful as her mama" he chuckles, voice slurred and dazed.

You finish putting him on some fresh briefs before moving beside him to cuddle him under the bed sheets. "Guess we'll just gotta wait to know what it's gonna be, right?"

"Mmh, but we're gonna love them regardless of who they are" he whispers, feeling his heavy eyes finally lose to the sleep.

Hearing his soft breathing you smile, leaving another kiss on his forehead as you cuddle him closer. "That's right, love"

[taglist] @tomiokx (sorry it took me so long TT i had terrible writer's block for a while. but here it is :D hope you like it ^^)

[charliehoennam]

the road trip.

Pairing: Anthony Swofford x F!Reader

Summary: Tony and his girl decide to make the best of the time they have to together before the longest deployment he's ever had.

Warnings: nsfw smut, p in v, creampie, oral (both giving and receiving), unprotected sex, language, 18+ ONLY

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

You woke up to the sound of running water coming from Tony's bathroom down the hall.

Being a natural morning bird, you weren't surprised to find his side of the bed empty, but you did wonder if he was able to get much sleep after your lovemaking.

As the warm water rained over his head, Tony closed his eyes dreading the day he'd have to say goodbye. It filled his heart with an agonizing anxiety just knowing that you'd be alone for such a long time.

Although he loved serving his country and following his father and grandfather's footsteps, he'd never thought he'd actually contemplate retiring from the service.

Dressed in only his army green t-shirt, you slid out of bed and knocked on the bathroom door, snapping him out of his dull trance and chasing away his worries. He smiled to himself knowing you were awake and told you to come in.

"Babe? Mind if I take a leak?" you smiled softly grabbing your toothbrush and his toothpaste.

"Not at all, sunshine. Knock yourself out. You wanna join me?"

"Lemme pee first then."

"Just pee in here," he smirked. "I ain't opposed to golden showers."

"Ew, Tony!" your laugh was partly muffled by your brushing as you sat on the toilet to relieve yourself. "I am not going to pee in the shower."

"Not even if it turns me on?"

"Well, I'd have to think about it. I can't just pee on command" you mumbled back.

"You'd really do that?" he asked surprised popping his head out from behind the shower curtain.

"For you, yeah."

"I was actually kidding, but I'm flattered" he grinned.

Despite last night's news, he seemed to be in a much better mood.

Tony was actually just determined to enjoy the day and make it the best you've ever had. You didn't know it yet, but it was going to be a very special day.

You chuckled in response as you flushed and walked to the sink to rinse your mouth.

"I'd do anything for ya, babe. You know that."

"Anything, huh?" he smirked watching you slide his t-shirt off from your body and toss it to the floor. "Why don't you come in here then and do something for me?

His dick couldn't help but twitch at the sight of your naked body. It was just his instinctive reaction to you, but it already had him stroking his cock to harden up.

"You are just always ready to go, aren't you?" you giggled stepping in the tub.

"I can't help myself, baby. Look at you. You're fucking beautiful."

Tony stared at you with hungry eyes as he stepped aside to make way so you could enjoy the water first; his hand never ceasing his movement below his hips as he watched the water trickle down over the curves of your breasts.

"You think so?" you smirked at his eager cock.

"I know so, sweetheart. So fucking sexy and beautiful. But what I really love is knowing you're all and only mine."

You nodded as you closed the space between your body, letting your perky nipples graze his chiseled chest.

"Yes, I am. I'm all yours, baby."

Dipping his head down to kiss you, you welcomed his tongue and let it dominate your mouth.

Feeling his cock poking your belly had your skin burning hotter than the water that now felt cold against you.

Your hand reached down to replace his and continued the firm stroking it as you knelt down.

Tony was so much taller than you that you couldn't comfortably reach his cock on your knees.

Already aware of the height differences between you, he sat on the edge of the tub on the opposite end of the shower with his back against the wall to allow you more comfort.

You thanked him with a smile that melted his heart like a flame held against wax.

He moaned when your tongue licked over the sensitive vein on the underside of his shaft. With his knees spread wide open, he let you effortlessly lull him into pleasure.

You took your time to cover every inch you knew he loved.

You sucked on each of his sensitive heavy balls, using your lips to delicately tighten around them, sending a wave of pleasure through his core to force out a breathless 'fuck' from his lips.

You teased the soft skin between his dick and balls with your tongue until he was begging you to suck him, desperate for your warmth.

Although you knew you could torture him like this, you decided to be nice today and obliged by taking his tip into your mouth. Your head bobbed up and down his deliciously thick and heavy cock as his hands gently gathered your hair to hold it back for you. It wasn't just to help you; he just loved watching your cheeks hollow out and your jaw hang open around his thick dick.

The moans from your throat vibrated down his legs into toe-curling pleasure.

"Fuck, baby. You know how to suck my cock just right" he breathed.

You chuckled muffled by his cock until you lifted your head up to press his tip against your lips to let your spit dribble past your lips, letting him watch his salty precum mix with your saliva.

"Look so fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth. You like that, baby?" he smirked praising you as he stared at your tongue twirling around his excited pink head. "You like sucking my cock?"

"Fucking love it. I love it even more when you come in my mouth. Make me swallow it all."

"Jesus, fuck..."

He gently pushed his dick back into your mouth, even more turned on than before just listening to your filthy words. He couldn't take it anymore.

He stood with your mouth still latched onto his cock and bent his knees for your comfort, urging to intensify the act.

You were so wet and warm on his cock and it drove him wild.

You loved it when he couldn't control himself anymore, surrendering himself to the pleasure.

You reminded yourself to breathe through your nose as his hips snapped ruthless against your face. As you cradled his aching balls, he shoved his cock down your throat over and over and over again, bottoming out completely despite your tearful gags.

Drool dripped from the corners of your lips and onto your chest, drawing strings of saliva and precum every time he pulled your head back before burying his dick down your throat again.

His hand tightened around your makeshift ponytail, tugging at your hair harder as his desire grew more and more with the gagged moans as he stuffed your mouth with cock.

He growled as he finally came in the back of your throat, holding your head all the way down his cock until he was sure you swallowed the large load.

Pulling away to let your breathe, he used his hand to milk the final drops against your red plushy lips and smirked darkly as he watched you lick it up, flaunting the pearly white drops against your tongue with teary eyes locked on his before swallowing it down and holding your tongue back out.

He smiled down at you and stroked your cheek with his thumb

"That's my girl. Taking cock like a champ. Think your pussy can take it well too?"

"Yes, sir" you smirked widely at the thought.

"Gimme a taste of it first, baby."

He helped you back up to your feet and knelt in front of you. Hook your leg over his shoulder, you set your foot against the tub's edge to balance yourself.

"Such a pretty little pussy all for me" he whispered against your mound before delving his tongue into your folds.

If there was one thing Tony excelled at, it was eating pussy. You tried not to think too much about it since it kinda made you jealous. But the way his tongue worked over your sensitive nub and licked your juices from your entrance was enough to silence those worries and make you melt into him.

It didn't take him very long to have your legs spasming from an orgasm, but it gave his body enough time to recover and harden again.

His shit-eating grin showed how proud he was for turning your pussy in a drenched slippery mess of juices.

Holding on your thigh as he stood, he effortlessly lifted the other with his free.

With your hand clasped around the back of his neck, he slid you up against the wall tiles with your legs spread opening over his arms. You slid a free hand down to align his dick to your soaking cunt, allowing him to slip it past your welcoming lips.

"Pussy so wet, it just slides right on in there" he smirked proudly at you.

"Like a glove" you moaned holding onto him.

As he pinned you to the wall, his hips slammed against your ruthlessly.

The bathroom was filled with panting breathy moans, echoing slaps of wet skin-against-skin as his balls smacked against your ass and the metallic rattling of his dog-tags hanging from his neck.

His lips were merciless against yours, mauling them with feverish kisses until your lips were swollen and sore.

He was hitting all the right places; the position he held you allowed him to fuck you raw and deep, tickling that specific spot in your core that made you come undone.

You begged him not to stop. You begged him to cum in your pussy and fill you up again. You reminded him how good he stretched your cunt out.

He tightened the grip on your ass as he held you firmly in place to fuck you harder.

Lowering his head, you followed his gaze to watch his beautifully angry cock brutalize your sopping pussy.

"Y-you fuck me s-so good!" you moaned loudly throwing your head back.

You could feel it building up again. The searing toe curling pleasure was beginning to ripple through from your core, forcing your fleshy walls to tighten around him.

You gasped as your body trembled from the pleasure, but he wouldn't stop. Tony refused to stop until you got what you asked for because his girl always gets what she wants.

"Tell me what you want, baby" he panted watching your breasts bounce wildly with every thrust.

"Fi-fill me up again, T-Tony. Please! Please! Please! Cum in-in my pussy, Tony!"

Hearing you beg sent him over the edge with a husky low growl that sounded as animalistic as the sex.

His hips thrusted into you once, twice, three times as your pussy milked his cock of every drop of cum he could release into your womb.

Stilling his thrusts, he held himself inside your pussy to keep his load in place while he lifted his head to capture your lips in a passionately tender kiss, letting the water rain down over his back to soothe and calm you both from your high.

The intense shower sex left your legs wobbly as you got dressed in a part of denim shorts, a cute flirty top and a pair of low top sneakers.

Tony dressed himself in his favorite jeans and white t-shirt with a pair of black sunglasses hanging from his collar. The most important item was tucked secrely in his bag, hidden away from your eyes.

He thought about leaving it in his pocket, but since you'd be going on ride at the pier, he was worried it could slip out and be lost forever.

Thanks to the late start in the shower, you opted to have breakfast on the road, stopping at the highway Denny's for a quick bite.

The drive to Santa Monica consisted of talk, music and laughter. Having bought a camcorder, you decided to turn it on to film bits and pieces of your road trip.

You'd done it many times before and Tony welcomed it, agreeing that it would be nice to document your intimate moments so he could watch them while overseas or even share it with your family if it came to having one together.

During the drive, you debated which rides and foods to try first, which radio station to listen to, if The Backstreet Boys or Christopher Cross sang 'Sailing' better after singing along to it.

There was never a dull time with Tony. He just felt like home. Like you could talk about anything and everything and still be so interested in everything he has to say.

Tony loved that you were so comfortable and down-to-earth around him instead of constantly worrying about if you looked pretty or how you sounded in sharing your thoughts. He adored that you were willing to speak your mind freely and respectfully debate him if he had an opposing opinion.

You weren't just arm candy to him or someone to flaunt off. You were his best friend; the one person in the world he felt he could be himself around.

There was a level of comfort between you that blossomed organically and effortlessly. Neither of you were afraid to be yourselves because that's what you loved the most.

As you reached the hotel, you realized why Tony hadn't told you anything about it. He wanted to surprise you and he knew you wouldn't have agreed to stay in a fancy hotel only for two days.

"Tony, you said you got us a simple hotel. This is not a simple hotel."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I just wanted to do something nice for us. It's for a night. Might as well treat ourselves" he smirked slyly as the valet opened the car door for you.

Walking into your room, you were speechless. The room was elegantly simple, but the oceanfront from the balcony was beyond breathtaking.

You instantly gravitated to the balcony and stepped out onto it. Gasping at the view, you held the railing in awe.

Tony followed you quiet and wrapped his strong arms around your waist, enveloping your frame.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it, Tony. But you didn't need to go all out to impress me. I would've been happy with something simpler than this."

"I know, babe. But you deserve more and if I can spoil ya, I will." He smiled as he pressed a kiss to the back of your head.

"I figured we could spend the day today at the pier. Then enjoy a relaxing night in the hotel's hot tub. And relax on the beach tomorrow. What do you think?"

"I love the sound of that."

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Prince Charming (Request)

Words: 1,541

Warnings: Cheesy, cute relationship fluff

“Ba-by! Let’s go!” Your boyfriend walked out of your hotel bathroom, already dressed and ready to go for the day. You stirred in the bed at the sound of him clapping to wake you up. Travis threw himself on top of you as you were tucked comfortably under the blanket in a deep sleep. You let out a large grown to let him know you weren’t happy with him, but Travis didn’t care. You were at Disney World to celebrate his Super Bowl win and he was like a kid in a candy store- he needed to experience it all. “Travis, it is 6:30 in the fuckin’ morning. The park doesn’t open until 8AM and we are literally staying at the entrance of Magic Kingdom. PLEASE let me go back to sleep.” You threw the covers back over your head. Travis was already worked up, and when he got like this, there was pretty much no stopping him.

You took in the sight of your boyfriend on top of you. He looked cute in an army green tee and a matching bucket hat you had bought for him on a whim weeks ago. He layered some of his favorite necklaces. You grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him in for a deep kiss, your favorite wakeup call. “You excited?”, you asked him, knowing he definitely was. “Hell yeah! What’s not to be excited about? I just won the fuckin’ Super Bowl. I’m in the most magical place on earth, and I’m with my baby girl.” You blushed, Travis giving you another kiss. You picked up your phone off the nightstand, turning off your alarm. You snapped a picture of Travis, him giving you a cheesy smile. “What was that for?”, he asked as he made sure he looked good in the picture. “I want to document every minute of this trip. I’m so unbelievable proud of you and you deserve to have the best trip ever. “Can I have like five minutes of cuddles before we go to the park?” Travis thought about it for a second before he rolled off the bed, jumping to his feet. “Nope!”

“Travis, put me down!”, you could barely grab onto his arm as he lifted you bridal carry style and dropped you in the bathroom. He threw a change of clothes and a towel at you for you to shower with. “You’ve got 15 minutes, baby.” You threw your underwear at him as he slammed the door shut. “You might think that’s an insult, but you’re not getting these back now!“

You put on a pair of biker shorts and an oversized mickey t-shirts, putting on your fanny pack and slipping on your sneakers to finish the look. “I am not wearing this”, you shook your head when Travis handed you a pair of sparkly Minnie ears, putting on his own pair of Mickey ears. He gave you a pouty lip, and you immediately caved placing them on your head. “You know you’re gonna end up carrying these when I get tired of them, right?” Travis just smiled at you; nothing could ruin his mood today, even the threat of carrying his girlfriend’s things. “Alright now, let’s go!” “Wait!”, you stuffed your phone and ChapStick in your purse. “I need food first.”

With a churro in hand, you both headed into Magic Kingdom, Travis glancing down at the map of the park. He’d never gotten a chance to go to Disney World as a kid, so he was determined to ride every ride and get a picture with every character. He pulled out all the stops, including booking a private VIP tour, passes for Club 33, and dinner at Cinderella’s castle to end the day. You had trouble keeping up with Travis’ long legs as he walked down Mainstreet. “Travis, baby, wait.” He turned to you, grabbing a big bite of your churro. “I know you’re excited, but we’re here for five days. We have four parks to visit. We have to pace ourselves or we won’t make it through the whole trip.” Travis leaned down to give you a kiss, your ears bumping one another. “I’m sorry, I’m just so excited.” You pinched his side making him chuckle. "Don’t apologize, baby. I’m so excited to celebrate your win with you. We need to meet our guide over here.”

Your first stop was Adventureland, which had your favorite ride, “Pirates of the Caribbean”. You and Travis got in the front of the boat so you could experience the drop. A couple of fans tried to get Travis’ attention from the restaurant, and he gave them a wave and a smile. You ran your fingers through the cold water beside the boat, the smell of the chlorinated water reminding you of your childhood. You took in deep breath, and Travis gave you a funny look, his eyebrows scrunched together. “It sounds stupid, but the smell of this ride is so nostalgic for me.” Travis just pulled you in closer, placing a kiss on your forehead as you took off on the ride.

You had close to 10k steps before you even got to noon. Travis made for the best Disney buddy because he wanted to ride every ride, even the roller coasters. He had to talk you into riding ‘Space Mountain’ because you didn’t like rides that went backwards. “Come on baby, I’ll protect you.” You rolled your eyes at Travis who had his arms wrapped around you. “I don’t need protection, I need you to hold my barf bag.” Travis laughed, placing kisses all around your face making you giggle. “I can do that too.” He smacked your booty as he pushed you in front of him to get on the ride. The ride wasn’t actually that bad, and Travis laughing and making jokes made it better.

“Oh man, its Gaston!” Travis ran out in front of you when he spotted the villain. “Travis, watch out for the kids.” You laughed as you saw Travis standing in line with a bunch of kids half his size, waiting for their turn to take a photo. You managed to get photos with Cinderella, Rapunzel, and Winnie the Pooh, Travis sending all of them to the Kelce family group chat you had recently become a part of.

You were really excited to have dinner in Cinderella’s castle, mostly because you were begging to sit down, your feet numb from all of the walking that day. Travis pulled your chair closer to his, so you were sitting on the same side of the table, draping his arm over the back of your chair. You gave him a couple of pecks on the cheek while you waited for your dinner to be served. “I love you”, you admitted in between kisses. “And I’m so proud of your win. How do you feel?” Travis adjusted in his seat, taking a drink before answering. “Honestly? Fuckin’ amazing. And this is just the icing on the cake. I can’t wait to bring out kids here.” You choked on your drink, liquid spilling out of your nose. “I knew that would get you!” Travis laughed while patting your back.

“Very funny.” “I’m serious though. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, and I want to have kids with you. That’s all I could think about during the game. How happy I was that I had you to celebrate my life with.” You coughed again, trying to clear a sudden lump in your throat. “Wait, are you proposing to me?” Travis bends down out of his chair, getting down on one knee. “Travis, please get up. People are staring. ” You started panicking as Travis reached into his pocket. He pulled out his phone, snapping a pic of your surprised face. “You, bitch!” you slapped Travis’ chest as he got up to sit back in his chair, unable to control his laughter. “You are too easy, girl! I know you would never forgive me if I proposed to you in the state of Florida.”

“You’re an ass, you know that?” Travis leaned in to give you another kiss. “An ass that loves you.”

It was dark by the time you both finished dinner, so you decided to head out to get a good view for the fireworks. With your guide, you were able to get a perfect view on the front side of the castle, no one standing in front of you. You slumped into Travis’ arms, the heat and humidity draining your energy. All you wanted now was to take a hot shower and get into bed. The fireworks started, and you instantly had a burst of energy, the show electric. You pulled your boyfriend into a kiss, the fireworks a perfect background to your love. You may have gotten a little handsy, very inappropriate for a family environment, but you didn’t care.

“Come on, get on my back.” Travis turned so you could jump up and get a piggyback ride. “No, that’s okay. Can you hold my bag and ears, though?” You voice sounded tired and miserable. “Of course, baby.” He slung your fanny pack around his shoulder, grabbing your hand as you headed back to the hotel.

[sissylittlefeather]

Introducing...

A Very Quiet Life

A/N: this is an AU in which Elvis is your next door neighbor in the suburbs in the mid-late '60s. I have three parts completed and more in the works, so hang on for some chapters!

I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: The reader is a widow. That's about it. It's pretty fluffy, but don't worry. The smut is coming 😈

Song inspo:

Gif inspo (this is how I picture him in this one)

The little house is perfect for your family of 3. You stand and look at it from where you've just gotten out of your car. The white siding and blue shutters are exactly what you wanted. You'll have to get a lawnmower, though, because the yard is already a little wild.

"Mama, can we get out and see?" Your 7-year-old daughter, Jane, calls from her place on the backseat. Your 5-year-old son, Michael, is knocking on the window. The sound of the kids pulls you out of your daydream about how many wonderful memories you'll make there together. You turn around and let them both out of the car. They run up to the front door and you decide to unload the car later. The movers have already gotten all the furniture and big boxes into the house. When you open the front door, you have a soft pang in your heart as you think of how your husband had carried you across the threshold at your old apartment. Now that he's gone, you'll have to carry yourself. You walk in and go to the kitchen to start unpacking. You're excited to make this into a home. This little house is your pride and joy. Between your husband's army death benefits and your part time job typing in an office, you were finally able to save up for the house. Now it's yours and you can't wait to live here and have a real future. Since your husband died, you feel like you've been in a holding pattern. However, it's been almost 4 years, and you're ready to live again.

As you unpack glasses into the cabinet, something catches your eye out the window over the sink. The window looks into your neighbor's front yard. It's beautifully manicured and you can see why. There's a man out there cutting the grass. A very attractive man, you think to yourself. His dark hair is wet with sweat and his white t-shirt sticks to his broad chest, revealing a manly and strong physique. When he pushes the mower, his muscles flex and the veins in his forearm are visible. His skin is tanned from working outside, probably on the lawn. You don't even notice you're biting your lower lip until he looks up in the direction of your window. You gasp and drop the glass you were holding in the sink.

Can he see you?

Thankfully, the glass doesn't break and you're able to pick it up quickly and go back to what you were doing. When you take a chance and look back out the window, you see that he's shaking his head and smiling, looking down at the mower. His smile almost takes your breath away. You wonder if he's smiling because he saw you or because of something else. Deciding it must be something else, you turn and go back to unpacking boxes in the kitchen. Your neighbor is a lucky woman.

******

You smooth Michael's hair and brush some crumbs off of his front. Then, you straighten Jane's hair ribbon.

"Now, remember to smile. We want our neighbors to like us." You coo to the children just before you knock on the front door of your neighbor's house. You've been in your new home for three days, so it seems like the right time to get to know the people around you. On your right is Mrs. Pottsboro, an older lady with several cats. She was very kind and appreciative of the cookies you brought. She also volunteered to watch the children if you need her to, which is an offer you won't forget. Directly across the street are the Walters, a family of five with kids around the same ages as yours. You enjoyed a nice conversation with them while the kids munched on cookies and ran around the yard. Now, you are at the house to your left. As you knock, you briefly remember the man you saw mowing the lawn. You've seen him a couple of times since then, getting the paper and watering the grass. You really need to meet his wife and put a stop to the things you've been thinking about him.

The door opens and it feels like a ton of bricks has landed in your stomach. It's him. After a few seconds of standing there smiling like an idiot, him trying to suppress a smirk, you clear your throat and speak.

"Hi! I'm y/f/n y/l/n and this is Jane and Michael." You touch the kids on their heads as you say their names. "We just moved in next door, so we wanted to stop by and say hello and give you these." You hold out a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

"Thank you. Why don't you all come on in?" His voice is warm and the southern accent makes it sound honey-smooth. You start to sweat a little, standing on the porch. He takes the plate of cookies and gestures for you all to come in. When you pass him, you catch a wave of his scent and it's warm and masculine, like his body seems to be. A part of you longs to smell it closer, but then reality slams into you like a freight train when his wife rounds the corner.

"Oh, hello!" She's petite and blonde, with her hair twisted into a tight bun.

"Beth, our new neighbors are here. They brought us cookies." He smiles warmly at you and holds the cookies up for her to see.

"That's so sweet! Unfortunately, we don't eat sugar." She grabs the plate and tries to hand it back to you. He intercepts it.

"She doesn't eat sugar. I do." She makes a tight-lipped smile, her eyes overly bright.

"Right. Well, thank you." She walks out of the room, leaving you and your kids with him. He bends down to be face-level with your kids.

"You guys want to help me eat these?" They both smile and nod their heads, taking a cookie from the plate that he holds out to them. He seems to be enlivened by their presence, asking them questions about the new house and their new school. They respond to him easily, comfortable with him instantly.

"Does your daddy like the new house?" He asks innocently, looking up at you.

"Oh--" you try to cut in, but Jane beats you to it.

"--our daddy is gone. He died a while back. It's just us now." His face changes to a look of deep sympathy.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Jane." He looks up at you but keeps talking like he's talking to her. "If you or your mama ever need a man to do anything around the house, you just let me know. I'm right next door." Michael jumps in.

"Mister, I'm the man of the house now. I can take care of mama and Jane."

"Of course!" He smiles. "I bet you do a great job, too. If you ever need a bigger man, you come get me, okay?" He does a little fake punch on Michael's chin. Michael nods in agreement.

"Yes sir, Mr...?"

"Presley. Elvis Presley. Pleased to meet you." He shakes Michael's hand and kisses Jane's lightly. You have to shake yourself a bit to remember that you should leave.

"Alright, kiddos, we've bothered Mr. Presley long enough. Let's go back home." You try to usher the kids toward the door. As you walk out, he turns to you.

"It's really no problem at all, ma'am. I like kids. And I'm serious, if you need anything, let me know." He winks and you almost melt into a puddle on his front porch.

"Thank you, Mr. Presley."

"Elvis, please."

"Thank you, Elvis." It feels strange to call him by his first name, but since he insists, you oblige. He closes the door behind you and you take the hands of both kids and walk back to your own house.

******

You're doing dishes a few days later, looking out at your crazy yard compared to your neighbors' perfect one. For a second, you consider asking Mr. Presley to come mow it for you. But you don't want to inconvenience him. He was so kind to you and the children when you were there. His wife wasn't much to smile at, being almost cold in her refusal to talk to them. To be honest, you've thought of inviting him over several times. You've even considered breaking something just to have him come fix it, but you also know how bizarre and wrong that would be. You finish the dishes, get the kids ready for school and head to your job at the office.

******

After work, you drive up to the house, excited for the hour of free time you have before you have to pick up the kids. To your surprise, most of the yard is mowed. You're trying to figure out how that happened when you spot him. It's Elvis. He's out there mowing your yard without even being asked. As you walk up to the door, he turns and waves to you. You mouth "thank you" and walk inside the front door. You need to do something to show him that you're thankful for what he's doing. In the kitchen, you whip up some sweet tea and pour two glasses. By the time you get them on a tray and to the front porch, he's finished mowing the lawn. He's sweating again, T-shirt tight on his shoulders.

"Would you like some tea?" You ask shyly.

"I would, ma'am, thank you." He walks up on the porch and takes the glass from the tray.

"You don't have to call me ma'am. You can call me y/n."

"Oh, well, thank you y/n." He smiles and you feel yourself tense up. He's standing close enough to you that you catch the earthy smell of his sweat mixed with deodorant or aftershave or something manly. It's intoxicating. He's intoxicating. He takes a deep swig of his tea and then looks at you.

"Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" It seems like a strange request, since his house is so close, but you don't seem to be capable of telling him no. You lead him into the house to the small guest bath. When he comes out, he walks over to where you're standing in the kitchen, trying not to be too obvious about waiting for him.

"You didn't have to do that." You gesture to the yard.

"I know. But I wanted to. I was serious about you letting me know if you need any help." He smiles warmly.

"Kids still at school?" He looks around the house, seeming almost disappointed that they aren't there.

"Yes. I'll pick them up soon. I just come home a bit early to have an hour of quiet before I go get them." He nods and you suddenly realize that you're alone with him in your house. Your mind goes wild with daydreams of him laying you down on the couch and having his way with you.

"Well, thank you for the tea. I should be getting back." You nod and head for the door.

Before you can get there though, you feel a hand on your wrist. You look up into his face for half a second before he presses his lips against yours. You should pull away. You should stop him. But you don't. Instead you go limp and let him wrap his arms around your waist. The kiss is a sweet one, with no tongue or anything. He just holds you there with his mouth pushed into yours. When he finally pulls back, you feel like a rag doll in his arms. You desperately want him to keep kissing you, but he doesn't. Instead, he unravels his arms from around you and heads for the door. He mumbles a quick apology and disappears before you can say anything else.

You haven't felt this alive in years.

******

Chapter 2 coming soon!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taglist: @itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101

Want to be added to the Taglist? Let me know!

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader

during - part eight

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

hope is a dangerous thing.

a/n: it’s heeeeeeeeere. full disclosure - it might be a few days until part 9 goes up; as far as I know, tonight’s ep shows some flashbacks which means I might have to do a bit of revamping! plus I really don’t wanna burn myself out with this one, there’s still so much ground to cover!!

word count: 4.5k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, canon-typical violence and injuries, death, blood, yearning, nightmares, mentions/allusions to sex, if I missed something let me know.

✨follow @friskito-library for updates on new works/chapters!✨

The days bleed into months, and before you know it, the snow comes. Winter.

You haven’t left the mall. Or, haven’t been allowed to leave the mall. Every time you cross paths with Cowan, it’s the same conversation.

“Let me through the gate.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

You’re nothing if not persistent, but you try your best to make yourself useful. You and Deanna have formed some kind of friendship, and you help her out as much as you can. At first, you don’t know much about treating injuries besides the bit you remember from an old first aid course, so you pay close attention to her movements, handing her supplies when she needs it, taking her orders in stride.

She was an army nurse, you learn, and lost her husband long before the outbreak. “Just as well,” she told you, a sad smile on her face. “He barely came back to me after Vietnam. I don’t think he could have survived this.”

They never had kids, but she tells you her niece and nephew may as well have been her own. “They live in Cape Cod, on the coast.” Her face went dark. “Lived.” Then she looked at you. “You remind me of my niece, you know. Fierce little thing.”

She teaches you how to dress wounds and clean them, when something needs stitches and when glue will do, how to stretch the materials you have left as far as possible. When injured soldiers show up after the first snow, she puts you to work.

Cowan’s among them, a ricochet bullet in his shoulder. Deanna hasn’t shown you anything like that yet, and you balk a little as he pulls off his gear, blood pouring down his arm. “Wait here.”

You sprint across the floor to where Deanna is literally elbow-deep in another soldier who clearly hadn’t been as lucky as Cowan. “What d’you need, kid?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly, spying a pair of forceps on the table nearby and grabbing them. “Just these. I’ll come help you after—”

“You go take care of Nicky,” she orders, her voice almost stern. “You don’t leave his side until you know he’s all right, you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You sprint back to Cowan, finding him hunched over, hand pressed to his arm, blood staining his knuckles. You grab a pair of scissors from the tray beside you, hooking your arm under his shoulder and getting him upright. “Fuck!” he shouts, and you grit your teeth.

“Sorry.” You cut away his t-shirt, pulling the fabric from where it’s wedged between his fingers, and his other hand curls into a fist on the table. “What happened?”

“Bunch of runners,” he breathes out, and you yank his hand away from the wound quickly, replacing it with a thick scrap of towel, pressing your hand into his shoulder. He winces, tipping his head back. “Came right up over the fence.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “I told you that chain link wouldn’t hold forever.”

“Yeah, yeah, you should run the world.” He meets your gaze, holds it. “You ask me to let you through the gate again, and I swear to god—”

“I wasn’t going to,” you say quickly. It’s not entirely the truth, but it’s not a lie either. “But I want to help, if I can.”

The towel has already soaked through with his blood, and it makes your gut twist. “Help?”

“Teach me to shoot,” you say. You’re trying to distract him, and grab his hand, pressing it against the towel. “Hold this.”

“Bat’s not enough for you?”

“No, but the rifle I found in the sporting goods shop upstairs will definitely help,” you reply, grabbing the forceps and wiping them down with a bit of antiseptic. “Especially once I get out of here.”

Cowan stares at you, that hard gaze he’s become famous for. “Why d’you wanna get out of here so bad? You’re—”

“If you tell me I’m safe here, Corporal, I’m leaving that bullet in your shoulder.”

He actually laughs. “God, you are something else, you know that?” 

You freeze, for a moment. Suddenly, you’re standing in your kitchen, in Austin. Joel Miller is handing you a bouquet of daisies and telling you you’re beautiful and kissing your cheek. The memory catches you off-guard, and you only come back down to earth when Cowan squeezes your wrist, peering at you.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” you reply instantly, shaking your head. “We need to get that bullet out.”

You hold up the forceps, bracing your hand on his collar. “This isn’t gonna feel great, is it?”

“Well, it sure as hell won’t tickle,” you admit. “Is this the first time you’ve taken a bullet?”

“No. Second.”

“Pull this away, when I say,” you instruct, tapping the back of his hand. “I gotta be quick.”

“Have you done this before?”

You lift a shoulder, a nervous little laugh falling out of your mouth. “I watched Deanna do it a couple weeks back. It was in the guy’s gut though, not his shoulder.”

“Did he live?”

You go quiet. “Move your hand.” He hesitates. “Now, Cowan.”

He moves his hand, pulling the towel away, and you push the forceps in. The air seems to go completely still as you fish for the bullet. Cowan’s face is screwed up in pain, both hands curled around the edge of the cot, white-knuckled. “Did the guy live?”

“No,” you admit finally, feeling the soft clink of metal hitting metal. Bingo. “But we found a bite on his leg after, so the internal bleeding was probably the better way to go.” You twist the forceps, and he hisses in pain. “Tell me about the first time you got shot.”

“Are you trying to distract me?”

“Is it working?” you quip, and he actually smiles.

“It was basic training,” he starts, and you nod, focusing on his shoulder. The forceps pinch around the bullet, and you pull ever so slightly. “My buddy and I were just fucking around. He didn’t know the thing was loaded.”

“He shot you on purpose?” you ask, brows raised. You pull a little more, making sure the grip holds.

“Not on purpose,” Cowan replies, and you can feel his eyes on your face. “We were just kids, then. Just screwing around, trying to fill the time. And now…”

“He still around?” you ask, prompting him further. “Your buddy.”

“I hope so,” he replies. “He moved to California, after we finished basic. I really hope he—motherfucker!”

You pull the bullet all the way out with a flourish, dropping the forceps onto the tray and grabbing a fresh piece of gauze. He hisses again when you press the new gauze to his shoulder, and you scoff. “Baby.”

“You just pulled a bullet out of me.”

“I’m aware,” you throw back, pressing a little harder. “I still think you’re a baby.”

He gives you the signature Stare before glancing down at his shoulder, taking over the pressure you’re holding, and you step away to get an actual roll of gauze. “Meet me at the south entrance tomorrow, and I’ll teach you.” You turn back, your brows raised. “To shoot, I mean. Bring the rifle. You have ammo?”

Your jaw nearly drops. “Yeah, managed to find a few boxes.”

“Good.”

You nod, unable to hide the grin that pulls your lips. “Good.”

+

They’re somewhere near Nashville. He thinks; Tommy’s been navigating, Joel’s just been following his brother. The weather has held up mostly, but now they’re holed up in some shack Tommy found in the woods, hiding from the rain. It’s been constant, nearly three days now, and Joel can’t fucking sleep.

He hasn’t slept well since they left Austin, not that he expected to. The few beds they’ve found have been heaven, but every time he closes his eyes, the dreams come, and he’s reliving that night all over again. Doesn’t matter how many days go by, and he knows it doesn’t matter at all how much time passes. He’s never gonna forget.

He took first watch, told Tommy to get some shuteye and parked himself on the front porch, watching the rain slide of the metal roof, pooling in front of the shack, running downhill like a river. There’s mud caked on his boots, and he feels dirty down to his bones. It’s been a few days since they had real shelter, though, and he revels in the silence, being away from the main roads.

But the silence lets his mind wander, and when that happens, it lands on you, more often than not. Sarah is always there, in the back of his head, the sound of her voice forcing him further, but when he gets a moment alone — a rarity now — he lets himself remember you.

Your last conversation still haunts him. The fear in your voice, the way you’d sounded so out of it when you first picked up, and he’d brought you back down, focused you. Patch yourself up. Take what you can and go. Get the hell out of Boston.

I’ll find you, baby.

Sometimes, the hope invades his heart like a disease, branching through his limbs and making his chest ache with it. He has to hope that you made it out, that you’re alive somewhere, that your paths are leading straight towards each other. Every time they come over a hill or turn a corner, he feels that tug in his gut, a quiet promise that this time, you’ll be heading straight towards him, a big smile on your face.

But Joel knows that hope is a dangerous thing to let in, to nurture. As hard as he wishes you alive, he knows the opposite is more than likely. He sees it when he does manage to get some sleep, nightmares infiltrating his brain until he wakes up panting, the phantom feeling of his daughter’s blood on his skin melting away far too slowly.

Right now, he’s forcing himself to remember the good.

That last week, before you’d left for Boston. He took you to that open field every night, almost, held you in his arms, kept you close and never let your mouth get too far from his. He’d buried his face in your neck and memorized the smell of you, the feel of you, the taste.

You pulled on his hand, led him away from the truck and into the open field. You laid down in the grass side by side, the sound of crickets and the soft wind the only thing you could hear. He’d leaned over you, cupped your cheek in his palm, rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip. You kissed his fingers, giggling when he rolled himself on top of you a moment later, his mouth chasing yours.

He planted his hands either side of your head and you reached for his belt, dragging your hands down his chest. He could feel your heartbeat, when he pressed himself against you, the twitch of your knees along his ribs as you held him closer. That’s how it always was between you two, who could get the other closer, how much could you pull until the space between no longer existed?

Joel still remembers the noise you made when he pushed into you, right there in the grass. The way you’d dug your nails into his back so fucking hard it made him moan louder, the sound echoing through the night. The blissful smile on your face as the pleasure ripped through you, and Joel felt it, the tightness of your body, the way he could taste it on your tongue.

God, he loved you so goddamned much.

A clap of thunder yanks him out of his head, and he flinches hard, the gun in his lap sliding onto the wooden porch. He’s on his feet in a moment, shoving both hands through his hair, and without another thought, he steps out from under the shelter of the roof. The rain pelts him instantly, soaking through his clothes, making goosebumps rise on his arms.

It feels good. He tilts his face towards the sky, feels the water drip down his arms.

He hears your voice, in his head. What you said that night, under the stars, laid out on his chest, your eyes glassy. “I won’t ever stop thinking about you, Joel Miller. Not for a million years.”

He never should have let you leave Austin. Not in a million years.

+

Cowan stays true to his word. He teaches you to shoot, not just the rifle you’d stolen from the mall, but other guns, too. Shows you some tricks with the hunting knife you’d found in Dean’s bag, even teaches you how to build a fire. You stop asking him to let you through the gate, and he stops giving you the Stare. After a few lessons, he starts bringing you along on patrols. You carry the rifle and the bat, the hunting knife strapped to your thigh. The temperature is dropping, the snow sticking consistently, and the UPS jacket you’d stolen months back comes in handy, keeping you warmer than you expect.

There’s not much conversation to be had between you two, and when you do talk, it’s light shit. You avoid the subject of families, partners and the like. You mostly talk about music, and you laugh the hardest you have in a long time when Cowan admits to you that he’s seen the Backstreet Boys in concert three separate times. You’re bent in half with laughter, tears in your eyes, and he starts laughing along with you.

The laughter stops, however, when you circle back to the mall. There are four trucks outside, and the hair on the back of your neck stands up when you see Deanna step through the doors. Everyone else who’d been inside, faces you recognize, people you’ve met, they’re all coming out of the mall. Deanna has blood on her scrubs, a strange look in her eye.

“McCoy!” Cowan calls once you’re close enough, and a soldier turns. “What’s going on?”

Both the soldiers step to the side, and you make a bee-line for Deanna, swinging your rifle onto your back. “What happened?”

The older woman looks shaken, and she grabs you once you’re close enough, her hands digging into the sleeves of your coat. “T-Tim,” she stutters, and your brow hardens. You know who she’s talking about;  Tim, his wife Marcy, their two kids. Their cots weren’t far from yours in the department store. You’d helped their youngest son, Henry, when he’d cracked his forehead on the tile, tripped on his own feet chasing his little sister, Emily, around the mall. Hell, you’d had dinner with them just the night prior, you and Tim had made the kids giggle slurping your noodles. “He just…” Deanna trails off, and fear twists your stomach in an iron vice.

“Are the kids okay?”

She nods furiously, still holding onto you tightly. “But…but Marcy, she…he just…” She looks back towards the mall, gestures for a moment before clapping her hand over her mouth. “I’d never seen one up close before.”

Deanna collapses into your arms, and you hug her tightly, half worried she’s passed out, but the worry passes when you feel her hands fist in the back of your jacket. Over her shoulder, you see a soldier leading Henry and Emily outside. Henry still has a bandaid on his forehead, and Emily is clutching his hand, tear tracks on her face. Your heart aches.

“I’m gonna go with them,” Deanna tells you, pulling away after a moment, and you just nod. She jogs after the kids, and you turn back to where Cowan and McCoy are still talking. Cowan has a hard look on his face, and his jaw tightens as you approach.

“What the hell is going on?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “We’re supposed to be safe in the mall, Corporal. That’s what you said. I could have been halfway to Texas by now. Hell, I could have been in Texas by now.”

“I know what I said,” he bites back before heaving a sigh. “We got an update, from FEDRA HQ.”

You lift a brow. “And?”

He glances at the stream of people still filing out of the mall. “The fungus, the thing that’s causing this, it’s in the food. We need to check everything that was in the mall, everything that was handed out. Production dates, expiry dates, it’ll give us an idea of what needs to be destroyed, but—”

“But there’s a chance everyone in there ate something contaminated,” you finish, swallowing back the bile that rises in your mouth. “There’s a chance we’re all already infected.”

Cowan’s throat bobs. “Yes.”

“What do we do now, then?” you ask, jutting your chin towards the people filling the street outside the mall. “Where do we go? Standing around here like this, it’s just gonna attract them.”

“There are buildings that have been deemed safe,” McCoy tells you, and Cowan just nods. “The quarantine zone has been marked off. We take everyone there, separate you for now, keep an eye out for anyone changing.”

Cowan nods. “Check everyone for bites, again.” He meets your eyes for a moment before calling for two other soldiers. He starts barking orders, and you turn to McCoy.

“I thought the city was the quarantine zone.”

He shakes his head. “Too much space. FEDRA gave us the borders, showed us where to go. The walls’ll go up soon, and we’ll be that much safer.”

You balk. “More chain link bullshit?”

McCoy shakes his head again. “No, ma’am. Bricks. Guard towers, barbed wire. The whole kit and caboodle.”

You swallow hard. Shit.

+

The chain link stays up. The walls of the quarantine zone press deeper into the city, and as promised, you’re shuffled into apartment buildings. There’s still blood everywhere you look, damaged ceilings, broken windows. It’s not perfect by any stretch, but the building itself is intact, and that’s apparently good enough for FEDRA.

They put you in separate units, the number of survivors taking up less than half the building. You stay with Deanna and the kids. Emily clings to your side, her arms wrapped around your leg more often than not. She hasn’t said a word since you left the mall.

The soldiers patrol the streets and the hallways, and after a week, six more people turn. They’re put down without a second thought, their bodies carried out of the building. The food supplies are carted from the mall to a warehouse within the new zone limits, and everything that was given to you is taken back for inspection. It’s a lot of waiting, of pacing the floor of your new home, of trying to come up with ways to distract the kids from what’s happening.

Shortly after you’d been evacuated from the mall, they’d brought out Tim and Marcy’s bodies, and your hands had started to shake violently when you saw the blood on Tim’s face, the deep gouge in his wife’s throat. Bullets in both their skulls. It had all happened so fast.

And you’d been eating the same things they had.

The worry gnaws at your stomach. You’d protested, at first, when Deanna insisted you come with them. You couldn’t explain it, couldn’t bear to see the pain on the older woman’s face deepen when you admitted you feared the worst. She still managed to pull it out of you, later that night, after you’d put the kids to sleep in the only bedroom, the pair of you sitting at the kitchen table.

“If it happens, it happens, kid,” she said, gripping your hand tightly. “And we deal with it. That’s all we can do.” You’d nodded, and she’d reached into her bad, producing a bottle of gin. “Something to take the edge off.” You nodded again.

A week passed, the six were put down, and you were safe. Your mind started to wander. Trucks filled with construction material arrived at the edges of the quarantine zone every day; you could see them from the apartment. More FEDRA soldiers, some venturing into the city to find usable materials. Soon enough, the wall was starting to take shape.

And if the wall went all the way up, that meant you were never getting out of Boston. Never getting the opportunity to find your family, or Joel.

But, the wall has only just begun, which means there are still holes in the boundary, and with more soldiers assigned to the quarantine zone itself, that means the chain link is left unguarded, for the most part.

They announce curfew hours and the consequences for breaking those hours, and you start planning. Collecting things, weapons and food that won’t spoil, refilling your first aid kit. You take what ammo you can find, nicking a few boxes from the FEDRA tents when no one’s paying attention. You still have the maps from the bookstore, your hastily-drawn path still marked on the pages.

You wait for nightfall, and you run.

You leave Deanna a note, tell her you’re sorry, tell her you’ll try to send a message that you’re safe, once you are. The kids are fast asleep, and you kiss their heads before you go.

Your path through the city leads you right past your apartment, and your heart nearly stops. The entire front of the building has been exploded inward, no doubt a result of the bombings. If you look hard, you can see the edge of your living room, behind the twisted rebar and broken bricks. You want to linger, but you don’t, the shout of an Infected pushing you forward, gripping the bat tightly.

The construction of the wall left a lot of tools laying around, and it was all too easy to find a pair of large wire cutters. You found a piece of chain link in an alley within the quarantine zone, and tested it out. Sure enough, a clean cut.

There are still patrols along the chain link, but they’re more sporadic. The guard posts have been dismantled, dragged further inwards, set up again along the new walls. You see a soldier pass by the spot you’re aiming for, and wait until he’s completely out of sight before bolting across the pavement to the fence, pulling out the wire cutters.

You have one foot through when you hear a familiar voice.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Cowan’s kept his distance, since you moved into the building. It bothers you and doesn’t at the same time. But in a way, you got what you wanted from him; you’re more confident that you could make it beyond the fence now. Especially with the rifle strapped to your back.

Your head drops, and you pull your leg back out, straightening and turning on your heel towards him. “You really thought I wouldn’t try it?”

“I really didn’t think you were this stupid,” he shoots back, and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m serious. You will die out there, why don’t you get that?”

You grip the chain link, the metal rattling beneath your shaking fingers. “I can’t just sit around here for the rest of my life, Cowan.”

“So you’d rather waste it, out there?” He gestures towards the fence with his rifle, to what lays beyond. “What good will that do? You’re smart, you know there’s a good chance your family is dead.”

“But until I know—” you start, and your voice betrays you, cracking on the word. You swallow hard. “Why can’t you just let me go? What difference does it make?”

His strange dark eyes narrow at you. They’re blue, you’ve come to learn, but a dark shade that sometimes looks black. “Come with me. There’s something I want you to see.” You open your mouth to protest, and he lifts a hand. “Come with me first; if you still want to leave afterward, then I’ll take you through myself.”

You stare at him for a long moment before slinging your bag from your shoulders, pulling out a length of rope. You thread it through the split fence, yanking the metal back into place and tying it off. Once you’re done, you get back to your feet, and when Cowan turns to leave, you follow.

He takes you back to the quarantine zone. A few soldiers shoot you looks, since you’re out past curfew, but Cowan waves them all off. “She’s with me.”

You keep following him, heart hammering in your throat as he leads you into one of the buildings they’ve cleared out. Down a long hallway, a few more soldiers giving you looks, before Cowan ducks through a doorway, waving at you to follow.

“What is this?”

There are tables everywhere, cords spilling out of boxes, hooked along the walls. On the walls, all sorts of maps and notices, FEDRA orders staring back at you. A soldier sits in the middle of it all, headphones hooked over her ears, twisting the knobs on a gigantic radio, adjusting the antenna. When she sees you and Cowan standing there, she pulls off the headphones, a grin on her face. “Hey, Nick.”

“Melissa,” he nods, and juts his thumb towards you. “Can you set it for the Austin base? And give us a sec?”

She just nods, her face falling slightly, and twists more of the knobs. Her brow furrows a bit until she gets the right frequency, and then she gets up out of her chair, holds the headphones towards you. “Hit the red button to talk, and let go once you’re done, or else they can’t talk back.”

“Thank you,” you say, taking the headset from her. You look at Cowan. “What is…?”

“It’ll connect you with the FEDRA base in Austin. You can give them the names, of the people you’re looking for. They’ll be able to tell you if they’re in the shelters there. If they’re not there, there’s no telling if they’re alive or dead, but at least you’ll know if they’re safe or not.”

Your brow furrows. “Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

“I can’t reassure you,” Cowan says bluntly, and as you sink into the chair, he perches on the desk beside you. “No one can. The world is a fucking minefield, and while yes, I’ll admit you’re a good shot and you clearly know what you’re doing with that bat, you will die out there. If your family isn’t still in Austin, I can almost guarantee you, they are dead.”

You rip your eyes from his face, turning your gaze to the radio, the little flashing lights and the knobs. “You don’t know that.”

There’s a hand under your chin a second later, and Cowan turns your face towards him again, drags your eyes back to his. “I meant what I said. If you still want to leave, I will take you through the gate myself, no more bullshit. But talk to the base first. Find out if they’re still there before you throw your life away on hope.”

PREV | NEXT

[miasmaghoul]

Could you please write a number 7 with Swiss and Aeon ❤️

From this list.

#7 - to shut them up.

-----

"This is bullshit," Aeon huffs, tossing his controller against the arm of the couch and throwing both hands in the air. "You're cheating!"

"I would never," Swiss says with a smirk, taking a swig of his beer. "Besides, how would I even cheat at Mario Kart?"

Aeon squints at him, lips pursed. He kneels on the couch cushion, makes himself taller, and Swiss raises an eyebrow. There's obvious amusement lining his face despite the other ghoul's efforts to be intimidating - Swiss thinks he'd be more successful if he weren't dressed in pajama pants covered in cartoon vampires.

"Ten races. In a row." Aeon leans in close, until Swiss can see the Cheeto dust stuck at the corner of his lips. "There's no way you aren't cheating."

"Someone's a sore loser," Swiss grins, watching his preferred Waluigi take a celebratory lap around the track. "Don't hate me 'cause I got skills, baby."

Aeon's tail comes up to thwack him in the shin and Swiss snickers, reaching out to ruffle the kid's hair. Aeon squawks in protest, bats at his arm, and Swiss really can't help the fond warmth that bubbles up in his chest.

"I'm onto you, Army," Aeon spits, a bony finger coming up to poke him in the chest. Swiss' gaze catches on his downturned mouth. "I'm gonna figure you out, I -"

Swiss grabs his t-shirt and Aeon interrupts himself with a hmmpf when Swiss tugs him into a quick kiss. A sweet little surprise, one that leaves Aeon with his arms raised and his eyes open. Swiss pulls back after a few seconds and gives him a wink.

"Eleventh time's the charm, kiddo," he teases, patting Aeon on his pinking cheek. The other ghoul licks his lips, nods.

"I'm gonna get your ass," he grumbles, grabbing his controller. "Just you wait."

Aeon crosses his legs, and Swiss doesn't mention it.

[boys-with-gunss]

𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐃𝐀𝐘 (𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟑) 𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐒

I never stop yapping about Zero Day, he here's literally all my thoughts on it right now so I can stfu for a couple days.

Table of Contents:

Film Summary

Andre Kriegman

- Character Overview

- Character Analysis

- Strengths & Weaknesses

- Conclusion/TLDR

Calvin Gabriel

- Character Overview

- Character Analysis

- Strengths & Weaknesses

- Conclusion/TLDR

Cal and Andre

- Similarities and Differences

-Who really is the "Leader"?

Film "Critique"

Overall Conclusion

Sorces

Zero Day full movie, making of, and screen test (free)

Also quick disclaimer, obviously I take direct information from the movie itself, but some of my information is paraphrasing of character wiki's (which are made by fans) so if any of it is inaccurate, just lmk and I'll correct it. Sources will be linked at the end

FILM OVERVIEW (spoilers)

Basically, Zero Day is a 2003 film centered around characters Cal Gabriel and Andre Kriegman, two teenagers who document their plans to commit a shooting at their high school via video tapes with the intent that after they're done, authorities/media will get a hold of them and send out their message. The entire film is supposed to be like "found footage" type stuff, the entire film is just these tapes they recorded, then at the very end, security camera footage of their school after the carry out their plan. That's essentially the gist of the film and basically all you need to know.

ANDRE KRIEGMAN

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗢𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗲𝘄: Andre Kriegman is Cal's best friend, born in Köln, Germany, his parents immigrated to the United States whilst he was still very long. He was on the track team, worked on the school paper occasionally, and was an active member of the science club at his school. He as brown hair and eyes, and average build, and has some mild acne. He's has a pessimistic sense of humor and overall world view. He's hard headed, selfish, methodical, and orderly with a short temper. He tends to take charge and likes things done the way he plans. He's intelligent for his age and uses that to his advantage

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗔𝗻𝗮𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗶𝘀: Andre is a natural "leader", he's very assertive and gets upset when things don't go his way, go off track, or when there's a risk it won't work out. We see this numerous times throughout the film, usually when Cal does something off plan (for example, the poem Cal presented about the shooting, Andre for very upset with him as it could risk them getting found out. Then the time when Cal wanted to write a letter to Chris after they stole from him, Andre objected multiple times because he didn't want ti being traced back to them before the shooting took place. Also we tend to see most of the plan being put together by Andre, like how he came up with the safety deposit idea, the idea of making a 'Will & Testament' type tape and leaving it in the car, breaking into Chris's, stealing his father's guns, etc, etc. You get the point. Rachel, Cal's " love interest" said hersslf that Andre seemed to be the leader of the Cal and Andre army of two and how she was more scared of him.)

Sources say Andre has an INTJ personality type (Introverted, INtuitive, Thinking, and Judging), his XwX is unknown. INTJs are usually focus on the big picture, are very logical, are very organized, and tend to be lead by reason rather than emotion. They're analytical, innovative, and strategic. We see examples of almost all of these things when viewing Andres character in the film, I'll just go through them one by one and provide a rating based on how well it fits him.

Focusing on the big picture - 7/10, obviously the main goal was to shoot up the school and kill as many as possible, and Andre was set on that and it was what the both were building up to the whole time, Andre mainly focused on that and that alone. Though he also focuses on a lot of the little details in the steps, which obviously lead up to the "big picture", but he spent a lot of time thinking over the specific. For the most part all of the things in the film that weren't directly related to the shooting or the "off-topic" stuff was caused mostly by Cal. (Ex: Scenes with Rachel, the prom, his monologues, getting Andre to go with him to read his poetry and getting him to drive with his eyes closed, etc.)

Logical/Analytical- 7/10, like I said before, he's very intelligent and had a well thought out plan, but the reason I rate this a 7/10 was mostly because his original plan was to shoot up the school and then just leave in a car with almost nothing and go from state to state with Calvin, which would be near impossible for two teenagers and in the long an short run, very, very unethical and illogical.

Lead by reason - 5/10, from the tapes we saw, the whole point of the shooting was to send a message, to show the consequences of the mistreatment Andre had faced. While those seem like I guess "good" reasons, they're really not. His actions are a result of his anger and his want for revenge. We saw it in the very beginning of the film where he and Cal threw eggs at Brian Hoff's (wrestling team captain who was a dick to them) just because they were mad at him and they could. I'd rate him lower but I have him a 5 because while his reasons for doing what they did weren't very reasonable, he executed the steps leading up to it and the act itself well.

Innovative - 10/10, Andre was good at creating solutions to almost every problem that interfered with their plan. For example, making his fathers gun shorter, thus more concealable. Not only was he good at creating things physically, but he found ways to benefit him and Cal through simple things, such as convincing Chris to take them shooting so he and Cal could learn how the guns work. Andre was also shown to be the more manipulative, finding small ways to move along he and Cal's plan by just interacting with people.

Strategic - 9/10, he executed his part of the plan very well and aroused zero suspicion and planned everything he did almost perfectly, the only reason I gave him a 9 was because of his idea to literally break into Chris's house while there were tons of people right across the street. I understand it was basically the only option, but it's not very ethical.

𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗪𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀:

Strengths - intelligence, quick thinking, agility/speed, manipulation

Weaknesses - Primarily anger driven, unrealistic goals, inability to "stand up for himself" without literally murdering tons of innocent people

𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻/𝗧𝗟𝗗𝗥: Andre Kriegman is the perfect example of a leadership role, his intelligence plans a big factor in everything he does and he's great at subtle manipulation to help get to his end goal. He has sort of a "mastermind" type personality because all his traits together are really what made him able to do his part of the plan (even if in reality he isn't the mastermind, neither is Cal though, and they both realize this). Though he's aware his intelligence and he's selfish, which has him set unrealistic goals, while he's not necessarily overconfident in himself and he knows that some things are just plain stupid to go through with, he doesn't think, but hopes, he can get away with it anyways.

CALVIN GABRIEL

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗢𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗲𝘄: Cal Gabriel is Andre's best friend, I assume who lived Connecticut his whole life. He played the guitar and sitar in his schools six-piece band and is survived by his parents and younger brother and sister. Cal has a seemingly great family and he's seen as a relatively nice and likeable and charming boy. He doesn't have trouble gettin along with people and Rachel really did like him a lot and overlooked his negative traits as Andre influencing him. He's obviously not been made fun of or bullied to the extent Andre has, but there's been instances. Calvin, on the outside is just such a "normal" kid some people see him as boring (ex: Rachel's friends at prom). Overall, on the outside he just seems like any other kid, he's not exactly outcasted like Andre either as people actually seem to like him. Though on the inside he's much more manic and impulsive and unstable.

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗔𝗻𝗮𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗶𝘀: While with Andre, no one suspected him because he was manipulative, no one suspected Cal because he was deceptive and persuasive. He was good at putting on a front when interacting and was such a normal, friendly kid no one thought he could've been capable of something like what he did, and perhaps it wasn't his intention to out on a front at all, it was just second nature (Examples include: Him making Andre believe he was going to go alone with the original plan, the getaway car plan, until the very last second, him convincing Andre to do things just for the fun of it, like burning stuff and driving with eyes closed, and literally every single one of his interactions with characters other than Andre). Though sometimes in front of others he gets burnt out and starts showing how he really is. For example, the party he and Andre were at, he walks outside and sits on the porch, obviously overwhelmed and just becomes disconnected and quiet, practically the only thing he said in that scene was "I'm just not good at parties.", which shows while he is a very likeable person, perhaps the reason he's so close with Andre is because Andre doesn't have any other friends he has to hand out with like Rachel does, he doesn't get so burnt out and overwhelmed because he only has to focus on Andre, who he sees as very similar to him (even if they aren't that similar at all, which we'll get into later). He's very impulsive and manic as shown through the whole film. He just does stuff because he can and he knew the whole time be wasn't going to live to see the consequences or rewards (ex: the poem, going to prom with Rachel, joking around all the time, messing with the student during the shooting scene). Cal is seen as being more hesitant/remorseful about the shooting because of incidents such as him writing a note to Chris after stealing his guns, and him lagging behind Andre when they ran into the school. I personally don't see this as the case though as I think the only thing he felt remorseful about was the stealing from Chris, he said it himself in one of his solo tapes, that's why he wrote the note. Also I think the reason he lagged behind was because he was carrying more than Andre and Andre was on the track team, so obviously Andre would be faster. It's very clear though that through the entire movie and shooting he wasn't remorseful at all. Maybe he was hesitant in the beginning as in the tape he recorded outside he said something now "I'm ready for Zero Day NOW" and he said how he wanted to keep the feeling of being ready so he wouldnt back other, which can mean he was hesitant at first but he eventually stopped, we see him become more and more eager throughout the tapes as well.

Sources say Cal has an ISFP 4w5 personality type (The Artist/Adventurer personality type, Introverted ObServant, Feeling, Prospecting). ISFP are usually quiet, sensitive, flexible, relaxed, warm, artistic, adventureous people who are aware of their needs and desires, have a strong set of practical skills, want to live in the moment, and are emotion driven, though they are also seen as sometimes scary and hard to know. I think this is the most accurate for Cal than anything else ever could be, I'll explain why by doing the same thing I did for Andre and rating how well Cal fits these traits. Because we know his XwX, there's a lot more to go off of, so I might group up similar traits.

Quiet/Warm - 5/10, while on the outside and interacting with other people he was very friendly and humorous yet soft spoken, like we see when he was talking with Rachel's friend in the limo, during the shooting scene he was very much the opposite. HE was the one screaming and shouting, HE was the one kicking and knocking over things and losing his temper, HE was the one taunting and teasing the students, which came as a surprise to many because it was a complete switch from the character he was throughout the entire movie. I gave him a 5 because its a middle ground, as he both equally fits and doesn't fit these traits depending on the situation, which brings me to the next trait...

Flexible - 10/10, during the main part of the film, the tapes, he really just went along with whatever Andre said, while sometimes he just did whatever he wanted, he adapted quick to everything and didn't have a set order he wanted to go in like Andre.

Sensitive - 5/10, I wouldn't say Cal is sensitive to others, sure there's moments when he can come off as sensitive or defensive, like when Rachel said she knew Cal was going to show Andre the tape and he immediately defended himself on it and seemed to take it personal. But I think he's not as sensitive to others emotions as he is to his own, though I can't really rate this as we don't see him interact much in a situation where he could be sensitive aside from with Andre, who's his best friend, so he'll obviously be more comfortable and take any reprimands or insults from him not seriously.

Relaxed/adventurous/desire to live in the moment - 10/10, throughout the entire film, very rarely was he tense and he didn't seem concerned at all for the consequences of anything he did because he knew the whole time he was going to end up killing himself, as to Cal the shooting was like a suicide mission, but to Andre it was for revenge and to prove a point and send a message. Because he knew it would end in suicide for him anyways, he lived in the moment, like I said before in examples of his impulsiveness, he went off track from the plan just because he could and it was his chance before he died. He burnt his stuff because he could, he made fun of the poets just because he could, he went to prom with Rachel because he could, he didn't care at all.

Aware of needs, desires, and wants/emotion driven - 10/10, the entire time Cal knew he wanted to kill himself, and he did whatever he wanted before the shooting because he knew he wanted to, and he went through with the shooting because that's what he wanted to do.

Artistic - 10/10, Maybe he didn't like draw or paint and stuff, but he was still very artistic in many ways. In the tapes of him where he's by himself, the way he words things is somewhat poetic, also it's the fact that he literally wrote a poem. Also Calv is seen wearing a Pearl Jam shirt at one point, which could be a reference to their 1992 single Jeremy, which is primarily based on the story of a 15-year-old boy who brought a gun to school and proceeded to kill himself with it in front of his English class, which in itself is something very poetic as well and the story is very similar to Cal's intention behind the shooting. This shows how he expresses himself through more literary art forms and not necessarily how normal people would express themselves, which by the way, the urge to be different or to express emotions differently to be unique is a common ISFP trait.

Strong set of practical skills - ??/10, we know of his ability to deceive and persuade, but those aren't really practical skills, we don't honestly see many examples of practical skills in Cal, so I can't really rate him on this.

Hard to know - 10/10, practically every interaction he had never completely showed his true personality, which in itself proves he's hard to know. Also the kids in the Limo just didn't like Cal for some reason despite him just being nice and normal the whole prom and ride there and back, which can mean Cal is just a hard person to understand and like when you actually interact with him, despite seeming so nice and likeable to people who've either never interacted with him in any way, or to people that are close to him.

Scary - 10/10, he murdered multiple innocent people, and the fact he even thought of doing it in the first place is horrifying.

𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗪𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀:

Strengths - Deception, persuasion, likability, normalcy, knowing what he wants and how to get it

Weaknesses - impulse, emotional drive, instability,

𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻/𝗧𝗟𝗗𝗥: Cal's character is the perfect likeable character, and that's what makes the movie so interesting, because the main characters, especially Cal, who is shown to actually be the most violent and unstable, are so likeable, the way they interact with others seems so normal and friendly. Cal is a character who knows what he wants, and has a strong impulse, which just makes him go for it. He's artistically expressive and partially because of that he's a hard to understand and know, though he doesn't have trouble keeping friends. He's good at putting on fronts and that's part of the reason no one suspected him, because he was so normal.

SIMILARITIES AND DIFFERENCES

Through the movie, Calvin stresses how similar he and Andre are, but maybe they aren't that similar at all.

Similarities:

Both are social outcasts without many friends

Both wanted to do something like Zero Day before they even met, Calvin states this he also states they never had to talk about doing it, they just knew they both wanted to and started planning

Both condone things like Zero Day in general

Very obviously both mentally unstable

Both deal with a power struggle

They make joking threats

God complex

Relatively uninvolved with anything unrelated to each other or Zero Day

Emotion driven

Differences:

Cal has a less hard time getting people to like him and isn't bullied as much as Andre

Cal is suicidal, manic, and impulsive while Andre had a will to live, for a while at least and tends to stick to a plan and is very oderly

Calvin is very artistic while Andre honestly doesn't really seem to have any special qualities about him

Cal saw Zero Day as a suicide mission, Andre saw it as a way to send a message

Cal is more laid back and carefree and "fun" then Andre. During the shooting too we see Cal laughing and shouting and taunting and teasing just for fun, while Andre wasn't doing much of any of that.

Andre was manipulative, Cal was deceptive

Andre is very pessimistic whole Cal always seems to be optimistic

Andre has a more leader like an assertive personality and Cal just tends to follow along because he doesn't really care what they do as long as it ends in him killing others and himself.

Cal liked to wait to kill the students because he thought it was funny, but had no hesitation killing himself, meaning he overall had zero value for life in general, whether it be others or his own. Andre liked toying with some of the students but generally didn't waste time and just killed them immediately (unless he saw that Cal wanted to fuck with them first) but after the shooting was over, he was hesitant to kill himself, which shows how he values himself over others and doesn't want to die but would rather die by his own bullet then a police officers because he felt he was too good for it, which highlights his inflated sense of self worth and god complex.

SO WHO REALLY IS THE "LEADER"?

Short answer, neither. Cal and Andre like to see them both as "leaders" because they want to be seen as powerful, but neither of them are leaders at all, you can't have two leaders of the same plan, especially when the two people have completely different end goals. Andre is meant to seem like the leaders simply because he's more assertive and comes up with a lot of the ideas, though we see Cal can be equally assertive and while he takes a more careless approach he still executes Zero Day the way he plans, which is a leade trait. Also we see both Andre and Cal order each other around. This may seem like both are leaders, but this just isn't true. Cal said that the whole time, even before they met, they always wanted to do something like Zero Day and the built up their own plans and were only motivated to executed it when they met. He says neither of them had to say anything about wanting to do Zero Day, they just knew, and they worked together to make a plan. There was never a leader, Cal and Andre were both equally involved, neither one was more powerful than the other, they were equals who's different strengths and weaknesses put together actually benefitted the both of them.

FILM "CRITIQUE"

I honestly have nothing bad to say about the film, even the low budget worked in the movies favor as it made it seem more realistic and unplanned, like how found footage films should be. The actors were amazing and did a good job of portraying the role of both "normal" high schoolers and mentally ill murders at the same time. I don't think I'd change a single thing about the film except for the fact that we lack some information on the main characters. Cal recording tapes by himself helps a lot in the area of knowing his character, but I wish they did something like that for Andre too.

OVERALL CONCLUSION

Overall this is one of my favorite movies ever and it's so underrated. If you haven't watched it, you should (despite me basically spoiling the entire thing). I literally stayed up all night from 11 am yesterday to right now today, so I think this is pretty good. Anyways if I missed some shit or I got something wrong, tell me, please. Anyways, here's the sources

SOURCES

ZERO DAY FULL MOVIE + MAKING OF + SCREEN TEST (FREE)

(Note: this movie is free on YouTube and widely available, but I know others aren't and with streaming services raising their prices, piracy is a completely valid alternative that I support. So if you can't afford or just don't want to pay for streaming services, hmu, I have links to good sites and torrents and resources and information on how to stay protected and keep your data encrypted when on them. I know, I know, I'm a real one.)

Anyways, that's my film analysis, go watch Zero Day, I put an entire day of my life into this so yeah, cool if you read all this.

- Ronnie🔥🔥💯

[chrrywavs]

Tiny black shorts

*ੈ✩‧₊˚𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: you show up to school with a new pair of shorts and Eddie’s old t-shirt drawing his attention almost immediately.

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: gagging, blowjob, 18+, perv! Eddie, praising, pet names.

╔══ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ══╗

All day Eddie couldn’t get his mind off you. It was the first period when he first saw you walk in, with his oversized band shirt semi tucked into the tiniest leather shorts he’d ever seen. Wearing his favorite color on your lips; blood red, with a pair of black army boots and the chain he had gifted you for your birthday hanging from your waist. Practically wiping the drool from his mouth.

he held you close to his side all day his hand always laying on your hip and squeezing your bare thighs whenever he could. He took every opportunity to steal a kiss whether it be during passing period or a quick bathroom break, and if you let him he’d quickly escalate it, slipping his tongue into your mouth and wrapping your leg around his waist. if it weren’t for the fact that you were on school grounds you might’ve let him keep going and Sometimes he’d hold you in front of him or tie his sweater around his waist to hide the tent that would form in his pants after. You took notice of his behavior.

But It wasn’t until he practically started grinding up against you during passing period, quietly moaning “your makeup looks perfect baby, god your perfect.” And “these shorts looks so good on you baby.” into your ear while you were fixing your makeup that you realized why he was being so needy all of a sudden.

༺✯༻

You tapped the pencil against the desk as you thought about how else you would extend this already drawn out essay. You were so lost in thought you didn’t hear Eddie whispering your name behind you, till he reached over and tapped your shoulder. You slightly jumped not having expected it before turning your head to stare at him over your shoulder. He smiled at you handing you a small folded piece of notebook paper.

You took the paper tucking it under your essay and taking a quick peak at your teacher to make sure she hadn’t seen. After a moment you pulled the note back out of its hiding place, quietly opening it.

You look really pretty today :)

You smiled to yourself feeling your cheeks blush. You quickly scribbled down your response handing it back to Eddie.

Really? Our laundry machine broke and this shirt was the only clean one I had left, hope you don’t mind.

You waited for Eddie to respond, your foot now tapping the floor. Eddie peaked at the teacher who still had her nose deep into her book, before quickly reaching over and placing the note on the edge of your desk.

Are you kidding? I hope you never fix your laundry machine if it means I get to see you in my shirts.

You held your head up against the palm of your hand, pressing against your mouth to suppress the giggle that wanted to escape. you wrote your response tossing it over your shoulder toward him.

Hate to burst your bubble Ed’s, but this is the only shirt of yours I’ve got. If you wanna see me in more of your clothes you’d have to come over later and bring me a whole load of them.

You’d heard a small amused hmph come from Eddies direction before he stood from his chair placing the note on your desk and walking towards the pencil sharpener at the front of the class.

I’ll do more then bring a whole load of shirts if you know what I mean ;)

You looked up towards Eddie who was already staring back raising both his brows up and down with a sly smirk. You playfully rolled your eyes writing your response and handing the note back to him as he walked pass your desk towards his.

Your such a pervert Ed’s.

You waited for eddie to give you back the note but after a while of nothing you’d almost forgotten of the interaction, just focusing on your final paragraph when finally he reached over handing you a different colored piece of paper most likely one he’d ripped from an old flyer.

Meet me by my van for lunch later? I got an itch I need you to scratch :)

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, eddie doing nothing but pretending to work on his essay keeping everyone non the wiser. You turned back to the note writing a quick response.

Are you seriously horny right now?

You were keeping your eyes on your teacher as you handed back the note. she had now gotten up from her desk to wipe away any notes she had written on the whiteboard. You felt Eddie gently tap your back and you reach your arm behind you to sneakily take the note back.

What can I say, I got a hot girlfriend sitting right in front of me wearing MY shirt and the tiniest little shorts I’ve ever seen, how could I not be?

You bit your lip, scribbling down a quick little response and tossing it over your shoulder before the teacher turned back around to face the class.

What will I get if go?

You looked up at the clock 11:45 class was almost over and you hadn’t finished the conclusion yet. Before you could turn back to your work Eddie tapped your shoulder.

I’ll take you out to eat, maybe some burgers or pizza?

You wrote down your response handing it back to him and turning back to your essay, at this point just about ready to bullshit the last five sentences.

And if I say no?

Eddie smiled, he absolutely adored when you teased him. He messily wrote his response and reached over letting the note fall over your shoulder.

Then you’ll have a very grumpy boyfriend to deal with for the rest of the day.

You giggled low enough for no one to hear. You wrote back the only appropriate response you could think of.

I can deal with a grumpy Eddie. ;)

Eddie quickly returned the note as if he had already written it beforehand.

No please. :(

You turned to look at him. He dramatically frowned using his finger to mimic a tear running down his cheek. a playful smirk grew at your lips. The bell rang excusing the class and you crumbled the note tossing it into the trash on your way out.

༺✯༻

Eddie snaked his arm around your waist pulling you against the lockers. “Where are you in a rush to?”

You giggled, “Ed’s I have to get to class!”

Eddie leaned in stealing a quick kiss “you got five minutes.” He smiled. “So about later?…”

“What about later?” You teased cocking your head to the side.

“Are you up for it? Imagine how hot it’d be to blow me in the school’s parking lot.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “It wouldn’t be so hot if we got caught now would it?”

“Actually it would—“

“Eds!” You slapped his shoulder. “I’ll think about it okay? Maybe I’ll be hungry enough by lunchtime.” You winked at him.

“Oh baby,” he cooed leaning into your ear “you just made me rock hard.” He whispered.

You laughed pushing him off you. “Save it for later freak.”

༺✯༻

Third and fourth period flew by and as you stood to leave the class you whispered into Eddies ear to meet you by his van in ten minutes before running off into the bathroom. he practically jumped from his seat dashing towards his car, completely ignoring anyone calling out to him to ‘slow down’ or to ‘watch where he was going’.

Eddie sat in his warm van bouncing his leg impatiently waiting for you to arrive, his cock straining painfully against his tight jeans. his hands found their way to the mound that formed underneath his Jean and began palming himself through the thick fabric so he’d be ready by the time you arrived, he wanted to skip everything and get right into it. He bit his lip sliding his hand into his jeans and started groping his balls over the fabric of his boxers. “Fuck (y/n) hurry.” he whined.

Once you arrived. He spared now time fumbling with his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. His already hard cock springing out and bouncing against his stomach.

You adjusted yourself to the best position you could possibly find in the awkward layout of Eddie’s van making sure you had easy access to all of him. You spat into the palm of your hand looking directly into his eyes as you slicked it all over his cock coating him with your spit. He groaned shutting his eyes, melting into your touch. “Shit (y/n).” he breathed out.

You were taking your sweet time teasing him and Eddie was getting impatient. You squeezed him gently, fisting the base of his cock and licked your lips savoring him as you watched the forskin pull back revealing his red tip.

“C’mon baby no teasing please.” He practically whined. His soft eyes met yours and he caressed your cheek, thumb tracing your bottom lip. “I need your pretty little mouth around my cock sweetheart.” He cooed slipping his thumb in. With your lips wrapped around his finger you gently sucked the salty skin swirling your tongue around and releasing it with a pop. His thumb coated red with your cherry lipstick.

You slowly leaned in leaving a small lingering kiss on his neck before sinking your mouth down onto his cock. Your tongue stroked a long lick against the underside of his dick, pressing flat against the throbbing vein that ran alongside it before wrapping your lips around the angry red tip. “Fuck.” Eddie groaned as you started bobbing your head up and down taking in as much of him as you could, your spit dribbling down your chin.

Your fingers gently traced alongside his balls feeling them twitch under your well manicured nails. You savored his taste moaning as you swirled your tounge around his tip. “Shit (y/n)” he grunted “you can’t do that.” He gulped. “you’re gonna make me cum too quickly.”

Eddie gently combed your hair out of your face gathering it into a bunch in his hand. “Been thinking about you all day.” he murmured throwing his head back against the leather seat. “You and your sexy little shorts drove me crazy.” He smirked down at you followed by a loud moan when your throat contracted against him. “G-god you make me feel s-so good baby.”

You released him with a pop fisting his length. “You love when my warm mouth is on you, don’t you baby? So desperate for it huh?” You teased. Eddie nodded and small barley audible whimper escaped his parted lips. You tsk “aww already so fucked dumb for me, and you haven’t even been inside my pussy yet.“ you squeezed his shaft tightly watching his face contour into one of pleasure. “Is that what you want? To be balls deep inside me?” You purred.

Eddie nodded, his head completely dazed from thoughts. You squeezed his balls. “your words Ed’s.” you instructed.

“Fuck yes.” Eddie hissed “Fuck (y/n) shit, keep going please don’t stop.” He Panted.

You smirked at his reaction. It was rare to see Eddie so desperate, normally it’s the other way around but you didn’t mind it at all. It was nice to be reminded that Eddie craved you just as much as you craved him. you leaned down taking his balls into your mouth and lapping your tongue around the wrinkled skin. “Jesus fucking Christ baby, you’re-fuck-you’re amazing.” He praised followed by sweet murmurs of your name.

He raked his hot trembling fingers through his hair pulling away his sticky bangs from his forehead. You lazily licked all the way up from his balls to his tip parting your swollen lips around his cock. eddie bucked his hips, his dick hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag. “Sorry baby, fuck sorry.” he panted.

You felt his dick twitch in your mouth. “fuck I’m gonna cum-I’m gonna cum.” he repeated followed by a string of curses. Eddie reached for anything he could and you took hold of his hands placing them over your head prompting him to guide you at his own pace. He threaded his fingers into your hair, holding you still as you gagged, your throat contracting around his cock.“Oh (y/n)- oh ozzy fuck-“ he growled fucking into you mercilessly. Tears spilling from your eyes as his cock hit the back of your throat. A string of curses escaped his lips followed by a loud groan. you felt him spilling his hot white ropes into your mouth coating your throat.

With Eddie hunched over he started guiding your head up and down his cock at a much more slower speed as he came down from his high. Finally he pulled you from his cock. You gasped for air wiping away the tears that formed due to all the gagging. “C’mere” he said before moving you over to his lap and placing a kiss on your lips. “You look so beautiful like this.” He murmured against your lips.

“All messy and gross?” You smiled.

“Yeah” he said before connecting your lips once again. He slapped your ass earning a small gasp from you, he took the opportunity to slip his tongue through. You moaned as he lazily sucked on your tounge groaning at the hint of his leftover seed, guiding your hips in a forward backward motion on his lap.

“Eds.” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” He breathed into the kiss.

“Lunch. is almost. over.” you said in between kisses.

“So?” He murmured pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and trailing kisses down your jaw.

You moaned as he began to suck on the sensitive skin at the crook of your neck. “So I have a test later, I can’t miss it.” Eddie groaned throwing his head back against the seat. “I know baby I need it too, later okay? Come over my parents won’t be home.” You smiled cupping his cheek.

“Home? Alone? With no annoying people to distract us?” You nodded. “I like the sound of that” Eddie smiled lunging towards the crook of your neck leaving small kisses.

“Eddie that tickles!” You squealed.

╚══ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ══╝

Please leave request or ideas I’m literally struggling so hard out here:(

[mcybank]

LOSING GAME ; S.H (2)

⟶summary Hooking up with Steve Harrington was meant to be a one-time thing. What’s the worst that could happen if it exceeded its limit? A relationship with a guy that is clearly not over his first love.

⟶ pairing Steve Harrington x Reader. Stranger Things!au

⟶ warnings stranger things!au, so a lot of the characters are different from canon. fluff to angst, emotional cheating, cheating, toxic relationships, mentions of smut, drinking, and angst. READER IS 18 AND A SENIOR IN HS !!

⟶ word count 3k

part two to the losing game series click here to read part one click here to read part three

click here to be added to my taglist. click here to send requests, thoughts, etc

click here to view my masterlist. reblogs and ur thoughts are v appreciated

an i kinda broke my own heart with this one but .. what do u think is gonna happen next ?? possible ships for yn ?? also do y'all wanna see more steve pov after this

"Hey, are you coming?" Steve heard you ask over the phone. His fingers clutched around the spiral chord as he debated your question. This was your senior year, and he expected nothing less than you hitting every half-decent party on a Friday night, but wasn't sure if he was up to the challenge of being in the same place as his old high school classmates. "Steve?" you asked, and there was a hint of impatience coating your words.

"Yeah? Yeah," he said, shaking his head.

You sighed softly. "Yeah what? You're coming?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

It wasn't as if he didn't want to go—he definitely wanted to spend time with you—but he wasn't all too keen about going someplace he was sure he'd be encountering somebody he wasn't sure he wanted to see. Still, he said yes to you even though the gut-churning feeling in his stomach felt more like an instinct rather than a minor stomachache.

Even when Steve walked with you to Jason Carver's house, hands clinging onto yours, the feeling hadn't left him. But the music echoing off the walls and the stench of booze was enough to ware off any negative thoughts for the night. He didn't want to focus on anything aside from you, how your eyes seemed to gleam underneath the dim light of the house and how the little black skirt you wore hugged your waist so perfectly he was sure it was made just for you.

Coincidentally, your white tank top underneath the black cardigan matched his white t-shirt and black jeans. "Hey, we're in sync," was what he'd said when you hopped in his car, his eyes slightly glazing over as he took in your appearance. You weren't overdoing anything, but you definitely did look your best for a casual house party. Lipstick, a few shades lighter than the bright red, almost pink, adorned your lips with a subtle layer of blush.

"This looks fun," you said, a small giggle escaping your lips while you greeted your classmates and some people who had graduated.

You had no problem conversing with most people at the party while Steve looked around the area to spot someone with whom he still remained on good terms. It was granted that you'd be friends with kids a year younger than him. He'd always noticed, especially when the two of you were just best friends, that he wasn't the only person you relied on.

Sometimes he felt like he needed you more than you needed him.

While you had a tight-knit friendship with the people he'd distanced himself from over the last two years, he only had you to be open with. When you were going through relationship problems, you had your friends who turned into an army to defend you. But when he was going through his relationship problems, well, he only had you to rely on until the unexpected Robin became one of his few friends.

"I'd love it if you could get along with my friends," you'd said to him a few weeks into your relationship. It wasn't like any of your friends hated him; they'd worshipped the ground he walked upon at one point. He'd just become secluded without even realizing it, which is why he allowed you to get him back into the small Hawkins social scene.

Jason, the senior in your class and the host of the party, came up to greet the two of you, accompanied with two red solo cups in his hands.

"Y/N! Harrington, glad you both could make it." Even though his words were welcoming, the slur on them along with the strong scent of alcohol whisking from his person didn't go unnoticed by Steve. "Care for a drink?"

He was about to decline before you picked the glass out of his hand with a huge smile decorating your face. "Going sober tonight, Harrington?" Jason asked, a lilt of playfulness as he nudged the drink closer to him.

Steve placed a palm in front of him to slightly push the cup away. "Can't, man," he laughed, fingers brushing through his hair as he shrugged. "D.D duty."

Jason's lips twitched as he gave him a nod, sauntering away before Steve could even blink.

"There was a reason I didn't involve myself with your class in high school," he said to you, walking you into the throng of people with your fingers intertwined.

You had been the only underclassman Steve had associated himself with. When you came in as a freshman and he as a sophomore, the two of you ended up being in the same place at the same time way too often. You hadn't befriended each other for an extremely long part of the fall semester, but you both gave in when you realized that you and he could never escape each other. And that's what started your friendship.

Your hips slowly began swaying as you and Steve were surrounded by several drunk, dancing teenagers. The music was loud, but not too loud, as you tried to coax Steve into moving along to the beat with you.

The most he did was snake his arms around your waist, moving in the same direction you were moving in, and press his forehead against yours. Despite the raucous environment, the moment between the two of you was peaceful. As each second passed, it started feeling like you were becoming an extension of him. His body was pressed close to yours, and his eyes were locked on yours.

Soon enough, you'd started to lose control, and your laughs were coming out of your lips a lot more often. You'd lost count of how many glasses of drinks you'd downed, but you weren't too worried, considering Steve was by your side. He always was.

"You've had too much to drink, sweetheart," he said, words barely decipherable over the music.

"Huh?"

"You've had too much to drink—" Before he could finish his sentence, he felt a cold splash against his back, dampening his t-shirt. "Jesus fuck," he muttered under his breath, slowly letting you out of his hold, making sure you didn't lose your footing.

Within a few seconds, he realized somebody had spilled their drink on him. He wasn't sure who since he wasn't able to catch a glimpse of the perpetrator over his shoulder, but the drink was cold.

You blinked a few times, adjusting your vision. Steve's face was blank as he let out a breathless laugh. "Somebody spilled their drink on my shirt," he explained, palms cupping your face as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm g'na clean this up in the bathroom, alright?"

You nodded slightly, barely comprehending his words. Your surroundings had become increasingly blurry, and your body seemed as light as a feather as you made your way over to the couch to sit beside a few people from your class.

As Steve opened the bathroom door, he wasn't expecting to be greeted with the sight of pretty, bouncy curly hair and a lovely scent of vanilla that he'd kept locked within his subconscious for several months. He wasn't expecting to be greeted with the sight of Nancy Wheeler in the bathroom.

And just like that, memories flashed through his mind like a stop-motion film. In a bathroom with her, his heart broke into a million pieces as she crushed the entire idea of their relationship. Being with her, the effortless smiles and sense of peace. He didn't want to, but it had been too long since he'd let himself relive those memories.

He shook his head. Nancy's eyes were on him, eyebrows raised, and palms flat against the counter. There was a half-full glass of some drink beside her hands, and he couldn't help but notice the white-knuckle grip she had on the counter.

"I just... I came to dry myself up," Steve said, unsure if his words would fail him. He didn't know what he was feeling; he didn't know if it was wrong. There wasn't anything wrong with feeling just something when seeing your ex months after the breakup, right? He couldn't be expected to merely ignore her presence as a whole.

She backed away from the door, pushing herself further into the bathroom, and waved a hand signaling him to come in.

Like a dumb, stupid, spellbound dog, he went in.

Nancy's presence was cruising on the line between being a breath of relief and being a complete disaster. He wished he could keep his emotions in check, but he couldn't do that without knowing what he was feeling. And she was making him feel an abundance of feelings.

"I didn't know I'd see you here," she said, and he felt his knees buckle at the sound of her voice. Christ, he hadn't heard it in so fucking long. It was always a lulling tone, even when she spewed the most feisty things she could, and he'd enjoyed hearing it since the day he first spoke to her.

He cleared his throat, hands basically paralyzed to his sides. "I—could say the same." Yep, there it was. Words had failed him just like he expected.

"I had nothing else to do," she replied back, and his eyes fell to the sweater she wore with the denim jeans. "What brings you here?"

How was she so good at this? Pretending like nothing had ever happened. How was she talking to him like he was nothing but an acquaintance she'd stumbled upon at the party. How could her body be so relaxed while being in such a small area with him when he was as stiff as a rock?

He stumbled upon his response. "I was invited."

They remained quiet for what felt like minutes when in actuality, it was most likely just a few seconds before both spoke up simultaneously.

"Nance,"

"Steve,"

He let out a strangled cough. "You can go first," he mumbled under his breath, but she waved him off, telling him that he could. So, he said, "It's good to see you."

A small smile graced her lips, and it was as if he'd forgotten about everything that wasn't her. That was bad, definitely not good.

"You and Jonathon good?" he asked, his voice clearing up enough for him to comfortably let out his thoughts. He wasn't sure why he asked—but he'd tell himself it was because he wanted to check in on her. Yeah, he wanted to check in on her and nothing else because his new girlfriend was outside, his new girlfriend he undeniably loved. His new girlfriend never failed to be there for him, even when she wasn't doing so well herself.

"We're on a break."

He hated the way he wanted to let out a sigh of relief.

"What about you and—"

He'd done it. He felt so much that he could burst that he didn't want to hear your name coming out of Nancy's mouth while he felt his thoughts betray you. He'd taken a step closer before allowing his hand to wrap on one side of her waist before his eyes locked onto hers for a short moment.

He wasn't sure if he was the one who leaned down or she was the one who pushed herself higher on her toes to connect their lips.

When Steve asked you if you guys could leave, you were sure that it was because he hadn't wanted to go to the party in the first place. So, you agreed and let him walk you to his car. You slightly stumbled on your footsteps, but he was quick to wrap a protective arm around your body to keep you steady.

You leaned into him as you walked, but the rigidness of his body was clouding over the drunken haze you were in. When you realized that he had barely said a word to you since he came back and that his t-shirt was still wet from the drink spillage, you were already in the passenger seat of his car.

And when, halfway through the drive to your house, he said, "Let's try seeing other people," you were already too out of it to say the first thing that popped into your head. What the fuck?

He paused, eyes flickering over to yours, and you didn't miss the guilt creased into the way he bit his bottom lip with unsuredness. "Y/N? Sweetheart, you heard me?" It was extremely funny, almost hilarious, how he sounded as though the last thing he'd want to do was say anything that would make you cry. You didn't know that Steve Harrington had a manipulative streak, but you didn't consider that a possibility because you were sure he didn't know that saying that made him sound like it.

"Heard you, loud and clear," you mumbled with the surety to fool him into thinking you were completely sober. But you were the only one between the two of you that noticed your trembling fingers on your lap while his eyes were mainly focused on the road.

Your voice almost broke when you asked, "Is something wrong?" You knew there was something wrong. Throughout the entire relationship, you'd known there was something wrong. But a part of you didn't want to confront it, didn't want to believe it, and only wanted to think it was just your insecurities taking a notorious shape to come between you and the person you treasured to an indescribable extent.

He drew in a long breath as if he was frustrated. "No, I mean... I guess? I just think we moved too fast, you know?"

No, you didn't know. You didn't know because he'd said countless times, that he always felt like the two of you would happen.

And now?

"Did you meet somebody else?" It almost pained you to ask, but that was the only thing you'd ask that prompted an answer that would possibly slice through your chest.

He took a moment, and his car slowed down but didn't stop. And at that moment, you realized that the kiss he'd placed on your forehead before heading to the bathroom was the last time he'd kiss you—not just like that, but just kiss you.

"Kind of," he said, and his words were laced with a kind of honesty that almost threatened the tears welling up in your eyes to roll down your cheeks. He didn't leave room for doubt in those two words. And that fucking cut.

You realized that there wasn't much you wanted to say to him. You already knew the answers; you already knew who he'd met. You were sure you'd get a confirmation later, but a large piece of you hoped you'd never have to see him with the person he'd left you for.

But that wasn't completely true, was it? He was hers first. She'd felt his intimacy before you did, and he was running back to what she gave instead of taking what you could.

"I'm sorry." When he said that, you almost wanted to land a punch against his jaw. Why was he apologizing when he didn't want to fix what he was so effortlessly breaking? What was the point?

It's over. He'd said the two of you should see other people, but it was clear as day that he didn't want to find his happiness with you anymore. It's over.

So, you didn't say more because you knew if you did, you'd start crying. You couldn't do that, not in front of him. You could feel his heavy gaze on you, searching for even a hint of emotion that he could comfort you through. But you were unwavering.

As he pulled the car onto your street, you said, "Stop here, I'll walk the rest of the way.

Steve's jaw clenched in thought as he fulfilled your wish, but he didn't unlock the car. "You're drunk. It's not safe," he said with care in his voice. That was stupid, you couldn't help but want to voice out.

"I think this car ride sobered me up enough." A pained chuckle left your lips as you unlocked the door yourself. You could hear Steve telling you that he'd walk you home or that you should just sit back down, but after you let your eyes linger on his features one last time, you didn't look back.

He hadn't even tried hard to walk you home, and you weren't sure if he'd driven away the second both of your feet hit the concrete sidewalk. You cared, but you tried to distance yourself from that. He wasn't yours to care about anymore.

When you reached your bedroom, you wished you weren't sober. That was when it finally hit you: you lost your best friend of four years and boyfriend of four months in the space of fifteen minutes.

It's over, you kept on telling yourself as you sat in front of your mirror, tears running down your cheeks. You'd never lost hope for many things, and that was what the people closest to you said they admired you. This time, though, hoping would only bring misery.

It's over.

Chrissy Cunningham was an angel sent from above.

Her deep green eyes glimmered as she talked about her boyfriend, the smile never leaving her face. Your fingers were curled around the steering wheel as you drove to your house, ready to hop into your bed and spend the rest of the night watching movies.

"What about you?" she suddenly asked, her tone switching to a more inquisitive one. You slightly turned your head, eyebrows raising in question. "Are you looking to get back into the entire dating scene anytime soon?" There was hope in her voice that you didn't want to crush.

That was why you decided to take a political approach. "If the right person comes along, sure." Your eyes narrowed. "Though I've thought that I found the right person at least three times in the past three years."

Your voice was softer; it barely raised a decibel even when you were joking or snapping at someone. Chrissy noticed it, and she also noticed how you hadn't said Steve Harrington's name since the day after your break up, which concerned her.

"Hey, I have an idea."

You hummed in response, eyes focused on the road ahead of you.

"I know a place." With the way she spoke, you were able to tell that she was treading with caution. "Turn over—we're going to Forest Hills."

You only knew of two people that lived on Forest Hills. Max Mayfield and Eddie Munson—you weren't sure who Chrissy Cunningham would be talking about, but you'd be a lot more surprised if it happened to be the latter.

TAGS

@lexlexl3x @macey730 @tiaamberxx @hoodpankow @gloryekaterina @tvandfanfic @lem0ns77 @dessmxsworld @kibumslatina

[incorrectbatfam]

What do the Goofy Gooners look like .. asking for a friend …

Rob is a tired dad with an inferiority complex. He doesn't put much effort into his appearance because basic hygiene already saps a lot of his energy. He has reddish-brown hair that he keeps short for convenience and doesn't shave as often as he should, so there's always a thin layer of stubble. I picture him to be around 33 but stress makes him look older. He usually wears the same basic t-shirts and cargo pants—a polo would be fancy for him. He's on the underweight side because he frequently skips meals so his kids and Milo have enough. He also has random tattoos scattered over his arms plus one on his leg and neck. They don't mean anything, just dumb stuff he got when he was younger, including a winking emoticon and the Pillsbury doughboy.

Blaise is 26 and you can tell he's a stoner from the get-go. He has dirty blonde hair that he grows out but hardly maintains, and the same level of effort goes for his clothes. He often wears things he finds in dumpsters or thrift stores and chooses comfort over style. His clothes have lots of hidden pockets for lighters, firecrackers, and weapons. He's tall and lanky, which makes living out of Milo's car in the parking lot awkward (Rob offered his apartment but he declined). Similar to Rob, Blaise also has a number of meaningless tattoos plus several piercings. He also plays the guitar and keeps his lucky pick on a necklace.

Kellin is a 20-year-old originally hailing from Thailand. Their assassin parents trained them in gymnastics, martial arts, and various weaponry from a young age in hopes that Kellin would follow in the family's footsteps and join the League of Assassins. That obviously didn't work out and they traveled around as an independent hitman (hitperson?) for a couple years before they landed in Gotham. They're always battle-ready—if they could shower in their assassin uniform they would. They changed their name and keep their hair just long enough to mask their face. They're fluent in English, Thai, Vietnamese, Chinese, and Arabic, but they prefer to let their actions speak for them instead.

Molly is a 25-year-old trans woman who incorporates her jobs as a drug dealer, team strategist, and nightclub DJ in a single look. She has long dark hair dyed with neon streaks but ties it up when fighting. She's not the most formidable combatant but she has basic fighting skills and is very calculative. Her primary weapon is a metal baseball bat, inspired by her favorite anti-hero, Harley Quinn. She also has a belt equipped with her experimental chemicals and smoke pellets. However, she's not allowed to pair up with Blaise on missions because it's an open secret that the two of them can't focus around each other.

Otto is a war veteran and car mechanic around the same age as Alfred, but that's where the similarities end. He's been wearing the same mechanic's uniform for the past four decades, the only differences between then and now being his hair thinning, a couple front teeth falling out, and acquiring a beer gut. His arms are covered in scabs and scars from the job and he's had trouble with his right knee ever since the army. On the surface he seems like a Boomer yelling at kids to get off his lawn, but he's more like a stern but well-intentioned grandpa who is disappointed to see nothing much has changed over the years.

Milo is your standard 15-year-old delinquent. He's slightly small for his age and doesn't pack that big of a punch on his own, but put him behind the wheel and he's a total menace. When he's not driving, he keeps himself stimulated with video games or his collection of keychains (his favorite is purple bat because of his puppy crush on Spoiler). His look is reminiscent of early 2000s skater punks, including a bright red mohawk and his trusty headphones. Everything he owns, minus his car, fits into a single backpack. His weapon, on the rare occasion Rob lets him on the front line, is a batarang he found on the street.

Gene is someone you would never expect to have so many issues because on the outside he looks like an average 40-year-old glasses-wearing office worker. He has short sandy hair and dark circles under his eyes from nightmares. His meds help a lot, but sometimes he's still seen pacing around and muttering to himself. He's not a danger anymore compared to the past, which is why Rob trusts him enough to share an apartment. Gene focuses his nervous energy into his research and tinkering instead, amassing a comedic collection of hyperspecific gadgets.

Mac is basically the guy in the chair. He's 30 and has thick glasses, thick curly brown hair, a thin goatee, and almost exclusively wears flannel. His nails are down to a nub because he bites them when concentrating. He's also often seen with chips or an energy drink in his hands and wears a jailbroken smart watch. Of the team, he has the least physical prowess but the most brain power. He doesn't see combat often but keeps a pistol in case. He turned an old ice cream truck into his home/mobile office so he can plug in anywhere. Like Kellin, he's also not from Gotham, but instead Fawcett City and has a distinct Minnesota accent.

Booker is a 19-year-old Gotham U student and the third member of the team's Glasses Trio. He's an intelligent guy slated to graduate a year early and thus needs his internship credits sooner. He's very polite (albeit a little socially awkward) and puts his best foot forward by coming into work with slacks and fun patterned suspenders even though he doesn't have to. His hair has a slightly uneven fade because his sister insisted on practicing on him for cosmetology school, so he covers it with a fedora. He carries his things in a laptop bag and has an enthusiastic bounce in his step that only newbies would have.

Jackie and Gunner are Rob's 6-year-old twins (Jackie being 8 minutes older) and are the babies of this hodgepodge family. Jackie takes after her late mother with frizzy black hair usually tied in pigtails. She loves wearing pink, reads way above her level, and is a horse girl in that she wants one to stomp on the people she doesn't like. Gunner looks more like his dad, though his hair is a little messier and overgrown. He hates school but loves dirt and monster trucks. Both of them have a troublesome streak but Jackie's a little better at hiding it. They quarrel like siblings do but at the end of the day, they always stick up for each other.

[gourmetjello]

könig x fem!reader : sniper hood

before we start thank you thank you thank you for the likes on my previous oneshot and also huge thanks to the people that followed me !! i’m so glad people are reading my stupid things. and i’m trying to follow back everyone that likes <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)>

guys, this oneshot turned out gross. really. i was thinking about putting this in dead dove do not eat, so keep that in mind please.

anyways -> 3rd person pov and english isn’t my first language! tw !!! sexism, blood, war, beating, guns, death, detailed, gore-y and graphic description of wounds and basically anything nasty related to stuff like that. 16+ recommended. it’s probably going to be a little angsty but not sure just yet, i’m still experimenting with detailed descriptions of human feelings — i hope i’m doing an okay job!

also! if you feel like könig is your lovey dovey pookie wookie baby boy then this oneshot might disappoint! don’t read it then! i’m sorry :(

—

the screams of a woman are nothing to be scared of. those rough, high-pitched sounds are always filled with pure attention-seeking and they make a man’s ears ache. it’s funny how they all think that their voice will make the other gender pity them.

it’s always disappointing to see a woman’s body laying on the battlefield — not really because people feel bad that such a gentle body had to suffer through whatever happened, but because their team totally wasted an empty slot on someone as frail as a female. they could have brought womeone who was physically and mentally stronger, someone who had more muscle on and someone that could have fought back against whoever broke their nose with a single, well-targeted slap. the blood smeared across a woman’s face was nothing but red lipstick.

why would someone be mad upon hearing these things? they are just facts, a woman could never and will never overpower a man. they might have one or two nice shots, that’s okay, but they will never be able to stomp on anyone’s face in way that will immediately break their neck. if anything, the solider under their boots will probably just pray to whatever god there is for the woman to accidentally slip and land right on them. that way they would be on the best possible road to taking advantage of them.

she always thought these statements were all wrong and that girls could dominate the military just like men do. she wore t-shirts with camouflage prints on them ever since she knew what the army was. she always played with little plastic guns instead of barbies and ponies (however she liked them, she just never wanted to show anyone her other interests in case they would stop taking her seriously!), it was all one huge picture that was basically being painted ever since she was born. every thing she did before joining the military was just one little stroke on the canvas — and when she finally wore the uniform for the first time, it was like color was added to the masterpiece.

the first time she held a real gun in her hand was when the dominant color became brown — brown, because they always had to crawl and lay in mud, dark green because they were often commanded to hide in bushes with weird leaf-like mats and blankets on top of their heads, and beige because of how dusty of a color it was. the walls at the base were painted beige, the floors were made out of some kind of cheap beige colored plastic-y material and the sand that flew into their eyes, noses and mouths oh so carelessly was also similar in color to the others.

she was convinced that a female could be just as good as a man , she was a 100% sure that she could fulfill every single duty of a man when deployed. she knew that it would require a lot of work but gosh, she just wanted to finally do what she wanted to ever since she was a little kid. she wanted to prove everyone that bullied her in middle school wrong, she wanted to show her mother that she could do just fine on her own and she wanted to show her father that she was just as good as a son would have been.

those thoughts lingered in her head everytime she was out training or just walking around the base. she’d brush her hands against the cold, hard wall to feel reassured that this was the right path, that she chose the best profession and that she was chasing her dreams right now, in this very moment. it was hard for her to admit that she slowly started to doubt herself whenever she held a gun in her hands. the targets they used in training always became a little more realistic, from a wooden sign to a sand bag, from a potato sack to a bloody gummy copy of a human. she tried not to flinch when the guts under the clear jelly flew everywhere, coating the grass in a reddish color thanks to the colored liquid inside it.

‘it’s food coloring. it’s food coloring. fuck, it’s just..’ she kept repeating in her head as she crouched next to a wall, her gun shaking in her hands. she saw someone lay next to her, it was a teammate, a co-worker, a friend, whatever you want to call it — but it was a dead person. ironically enough, it was yet another woman, she had been shot right in the liver. the puddle under her was becoming bigger and bigger, spreading towards the other woman that simply didn’t know what to do.

she was panicked, feeling her heart beat in her throat once the liquid gently brushed against her dusty boots, cleaning the beige little coating off of it. her breathing was ragged, and if you ask me, i would just call it straight up panting. she could feel cold sweat drip down her temple and she knew she couldn’t lose her sanity in a situation like this, but gosh, it was so bad. the first time she had ever seen anyone die and it was already the real deal — she knew she was weak, she knew she should have never applied for this fucking job, she should have never had the obsession with guns and soliders and the whole fucking army, but.. was she really in the wrong for thinking a girl could do it all?

coldness started spreading along her ribs and her spine as she kept staring at the dead body in front of her. she couldn’t take her eyes off of the piece of wounded, no longer breathing meat that once used to be someone she chatted with. hell, they even sat next to eachother in the cafeteria.

her entire body was trembling and shaking with fear. she tried to focus on something else, but once her hands instinctively raised her gun with the careful move she had done so many times in practice, she immediately had to let it drop down to the floor because of how nauseous she felt holding that rough tool. she felt dirty. she felt like she should have never been associated with any of this shit! regret was the only thing in her mind right now.

and then all of sudden — everything went black.

“don’t leave ya’ fuckin’ guard down, missy. gets you killed, y’know?”

she heard a deep voice that was soaked with ego and a disgusting tint of disgrace towards women in the military. she wished she would have just died that instant because she definitely didn’t need to hear the string of insults and sounds of her own bones breaking and cracking that came next. she felt someone, someone heavy stomp on her chest, and then her nose, and then — gosh, he finally stepped off of her.

“fuck.. yer’ ass still breathin’? warum bist du noch nicht gestorben, hm? dumme schlampe-“

after fighting with many of her aching body parts, her eyes finally shot open. she wanted to keep them closed, she didn’t want to see who the person was above her, but reflexes were a lot stronger than will, and there was nothing she could do against them. her eyes were filled with fear as she saw nothing but a dark shoelace dangling in front of her face, dried mud falling off of it as the man shook his leg lightly.

she felt the weight of her gun on her stomach, yet there was nothing she could do about it. everything hurt, a number of her bones were probably shattered and she felt like she couldn’t even move her pinky finger a little bit. nothing. it was like she was paralyzed.

and she wasn’t far away from reality.

the shoelace was soon out of her sight and all she saw was someone crouching down next to her. the man that stomped on her just a few seconds ago. why was he doing this?

“scheisse..” he mumbled under his breath. “you won’t die like this, this’ll just hurt more than being shot..”

..and that was when she saw him raise his gun and angle it downwards. he aimed it right at her face. his finger twitched on the trigger as he had already destroyed her frail bones, making sure that she will never even come close to walking or moving ever again, yet.. why did he feel so much pity right now? why did he feel like such a shitty person? he had most likely given her spine a few cracks, why hasn’t she died yet?

the guilt probably kicked for könig in because he didn’t see her die immediately. he already messed up when he was too slow with grabbing his gun. it was just for a split second but he saw her fear-filled eyes and her trembling pupils. her cheeks that were stained by dirt now, her pretty, feminine face made ugly and messed up with the muddy and bloody print of his shoe. her nose was crooked and leaking blood, down to the floor — completely mixing together with the spreading puddle of blood that originated from the other woman’s cold body. fuck, this situation was already as bad as it could get.

“fuck, can’t shoot ya’, missy. can’t get myself to.”

he let down his gun in defeat, lowering himself to her level once again. the blurry spheres were finally coming to life as her eyes seemed to focus on whatever huge darkness was leaning down right into her face. she finally realized it was a sniper hood hanging down and not some kind of black crow that came in the sign of afterlife or the gates of hell (because something that’s dirty and pitch black can’t possibly symbolize heaven, right?).

“jeez, you look horrible. fucked ya’ pretty face up so bad. scheisse.. didn’t anyone tell you to get the fuck outta’ military the second you joined?”

she wanted to say something. she wanted to scream, she wanted to open her mouth and give voice to every single one of her fears and frustrations but she simply couldn’t. the only hope she had was that the lunch she had earlier would just stop threatening her body already and finally come up through her mouth — as bad as it sounded, she just begged for some kind of inner force to make her vomit and finally get his face dirty with something that was even more disgusting than blood.

könig quickly acted without thinking. he basically ripped the sniper shood off of his head and rushed to hide her bloody face with it. it was a pathetic excuse of a sniper hood anyway. it was an old, ragged shirt — bleached around the eye holes for that extra intimidating look, you know? but the way the fabric was too big on her head made it look like the eye holes were lining up with her chapped and shaking lips. just as he intended it to be.

“yeah, like that.”

he quickly glanced over to the other body that was laying on the floor, he was convinced that it was already cold (which was right) so he didn’t even really bother trying to do anything with that. he wasn’t fazed by the sight of that dead woman at all. instead, he quickly scooped the girl he just gave his sniper hood up into his arms and began running towards his base, her gun left behind them on the floor, soaking in the puddle of mixed blood.

as könig held her body close to himself while rushing with her in his arms, he quickly reached up to rip the velcro strips that signaled her team off of her uniform and vest. he desperately reached down to rip the austria flag off of his body and place it on her shoulder instead.

and now he finally felt the chills through his spine and ribs the same way she did before he had attacked her — starting from this moment, he was a target of his very own squad.

—

gosh! not proud of this. the writing is okay i’d say (i got to use some of my german knowledge ehehe) but it’s disgusting. i hope i didn’t traumatize anyone! (·•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ )

please let me know what i should write about next!

good night!

[captainzigo]

since I have been making my little pony comics for the past few months, I have basically forgotten what every single one of my duckverse comic prompts means. I had a big list full of one sentence prompts for duckverse comics that I was going to make, and I was reading through it yesterday, because I thought about making one. I was surprised to find out that I have no idea what any of them mean. instead of just deleting the list, I have decided to share with you. For what good it will do you. Think of this as a little shout out to the people who followed me for duckverse content. i havent forgotten about you. it’s also a little peek in my twisted mind. my horrible creation process. a behind the scenes look from hell. the list of prompts is below the break

max college fund

launchpad rescue hero

costco 22¢ per bite

house of mouse

door to darkness

because i’m hispanic?

donald cousins catch and release

fish wife

the greatest skateboard trick in the seven seas

backyardagins movie

evil versions boy band

gladstone gay moms

the poor part of town

private army of freaks vs my boys

you own the town. you are politics - what do you think taxes are for - not gladstone bail - id be doing everyone a favor

kids table is great actually

donald cry gold swim

beautiful gold moon

villains table

these lovebirds

gladstone can’t read

gladstone hyper specific thrift store shirt

louie seeing anyone right now?

managed my uncle’s finances

june dolls episode

may louie webs spy episode

house of mouse christmas hdl want to come

propeller cap start to turn. big wind. its a helicopter landing. thanks babe

double gay batteries

daisy likes donald snoring

if you can understand anything he says then yeah!

sora. quack pack. bald monkey

i respect your pronouns. i dont not respect YOU scrooge

why are you friends with my rival’s girlfriend

we’re sisters now too???

The dancing hacker - do you know how hard it is to lucid dream

are you guys playing dancing hacker?

how did you do that? Those dice were rigged i mean.

you guys were supposed to prepare a musical number every session

Lady in pink but with a knife

girl boss? No girl lady. But not a girl.

sephirof at the door. never seen Donald that serious in my life.

I have a superhero alter ego - like super Grover?

louie x robin the frog

daffy: i’m getting you a job in Hollywood, kid! You gonna make big times. Why? uh… i’m friends with your mom.

Duckburg community college is the only community college that does dance scholarship

duckberg community ducks, and the Duckburg University geese

in helicopter: you ever going to get tired of having our dates like this? no never.

donald take responsibility for our son! panchito what

babe your costume is terrible. why are you still in a sailor hat

tasha austin gay lesbian solidarity

hey webby! *glittery hands*

webby diary

shake for trust? glitter on hand. body slam

why did t you tell me your girlfriend is a pilot? tasha said i shouldn’t tell you because of what happened to you pilot ex. he’s still alive!

pablo: sleeper agents be like time for my next mission

CHRISTMAS GIFTS

WHATS UP T-BOYS?

donald’s boyfriends what does gladstone have against gay people

donald you should wingman for me. i thought you were gay

dugan duck is your secret kid isn’t he

huey ponytail

donald has three boyfriends why can’t i have two

woops i mexed up their super powers - let’s go, t boys! i didn’t make them trans! they were like that before, right?

your brother donald has like five partners. yeah and i’m not my brother donald. you’re right. i should date your brother donald

dewey damn girl your ass phat what are your pronouns. katy nun/ya

tying normie trans girl to a chair turbo pablo

don’t worry. the promise ring is just a tracking device

punch buggy gets steadily more and more violent

dewey’s many licenses

duck twins cobwebs

beaks: help! #911

katy can not entertain in her tiny trailer

uno gaydar donald i finally give you a job and you’re being gay on the clock??

when mom comes in and you have to hide your DS under your pillow

HDL Tulin

HDL chart

[kekaki-cupcakes]

BONJOUR (〃^ω^〃)

if your requests are open and if you so feel like, I would LOVE (♥ω♥*) to hear your Connor Stoll HCS whether misc or x reader related I care very little, I just want more content of my fav.

Sincerely eternally yours - anon.

ciao! ヽ( 'ω' )ﾉ

Hey I know you requested this ages ago sorry about that. I've also decided to answer requests in order of which one I like the idea of the most instead of time because I feel like I'm stuck on a few old ones lol

Also this was so fun to write and I ended up writing a short story at one point or smthn.

Conner Stoll Headcanons

»»————-　★　————-««

-He sometimes forgets Travis isn’t really his twin.

-As do most people that know them. 

-He’s so sick of the jokes about his last name he and Travis just pretend to not understand anymore.

-The poison sprayed T-shirt given to the Hunter Phoebe, stopping her from going on the quest to save Annabeth wasn’t just a prank on the stern girl. It was on purpose, so that Percy could go instead, but no one really realized that.  

-Once he moved to New York years after the books ended, he rented a flat with a smashed in window and a leaky bathtub. He had to live off one dollar pizza slices for about a year [he loved them] until he saved up and stole enough to afford a better flat with three bedrooms. One was for him, one was for Cecil, and one was for Katie when she visited with Travis. He has a bunk bed that he shares with Travis, but he makes his brother sleep on the top bunk like they did at CHB.

-Unknown to him, Travis’s room at Camp Jupiter has a bunk bed too, and he sleeps on the top every night. He’s studying Law. 

-Once Conner was able to pay rent by the deadlines and had steady shifts at work [and once his diet had gotten a bit better, although pizza slice Friday is a ritual] Chiron finally let Cecil move in.

-It was only really because Cecil wanted to go to highschool properly, and finish it this time instead of being chased from the year ten open day by feral harpy’s. He works at Starbucks part time and Conner drives him to every shift and then Iris messages CHB and talks to his friends in his car while he waits for Cecil to finish. 

-He’s actually really disappointed when Cecil buys a motorbike and doesn’t need lifts to Starbucks anymore, but then his little brother needs someone to pick him up because he crashed into a phone box and he’s back to annoyed chauffeurTM again.

-He owns the shittiest car ever, like, one of those falling apart pickup trucks with fluffy dice and he actually keeps it pretty clean because he’s so proud of it. He calls it ‘Mater’, from the movie Cars, because it’s Cecil’s favorite movie. It’s also covered in bumper stickers. Like, nearly every part of it, and people just hand them to him sometimes to fill in a gap. 

-He joined the local track team, and he’s actually pretty good.

-His guilty pleasure is Taylor Swift’s 1989 album and eating peanut butter MnM’s by the bag even though he hates real MnM’s.  

-He never really wanted to go to University, and the strictness of Camp Jupiter would’ve killed him, so he got a job at the lolly store Sally used to work at, but was fired when he let too many little kids shoplift. 

-Now he’s working at a backpackers lodge instead, and he actually really likes meeting all the traveling people that come through, even though he knows it’s because of his dad. His relationship with Hermes is questionable, mainly because of Luke. 

-He loved his brother but after the Titan war and all the shame put on their cabin he hated Luke with a passion, as did most of his siblings, even if they sort of did understand why he did it all anyway. Conner wouldn’t have joined the Titan Army, but he knows that if the majority of Camp Halfblood was to stage something like that again he probably would. He’s loyal to his siblings and friends, not the gods. 

-Chris Rodriguez agrees on that part. They’ve talked about it a lot. 

-Chris stayed over on the fold out couch enough for him to get a toothbrush in the bathroom and his favorite cereal in the pantry, which is weet-bix bites with honey and blueberries [if someone went to the shops for something other than pink monster energy drinks and grain waves]. He stills lives at Camp Half-blood with Clarrise most of the time and he’s going to University online but has to come in once or twice a week for tests and practical classes. He wanted to be a paramedic but he knew that would be too much stress on him and so would being a therapist.

-Chris is studying nursing and catches a ride with Pollux [who is studying to be a paramedic] sometimes.  

-Then Pollux began staying over sometimes as well.

-And of course there were times when Clarrise would come into the city with her boyfriend to find late night underground fight clubs and visit Coach Hedge [he was the satyr that brought her to CHB].

-Six months pass and Conner’s apartment is a mini Camp Halfblood stop by.

-This is confirmed when Lou Ellen bursts in at three am with a hellhound on her heels and the app Malcom Pace had invented that directed demigods to nearby safe havens when they were in danger.                                                                                                               She explained that his flat had come up and she needed to talk to Austin [who was sleeping on the couch] about how somebody from his cabin had stolen her voodoo doll of Will that they liked to tickle while he was stitching someone up in the Infirmary. 

-He’s accepted it now but sometimes when a random kid shows up covered in blood he sends them to Sally’s apartment [she’s on the app as well]. There’s only so many blow up mattresses and showers long enough to scrub monster grit off a twenty something year old can afford. 

-He gets promoted at the traveler’s lodge, and ends up sending a lot of demigods, nymphs, and satyrs there as well. 

-Chris’s nursing skills help out a lot more than they were hoping.

-So does having Pollux the paramedic on speed dial. 

-He pirates anything he watches, and his favorites are The Last Of Us and Ferris Bueller's day off. He is obligated to watch Cars at least once a week with Cecil, but his favorite Disney movie is The BFG [it used to be the Lion King but then Luke happened and it hit too far home]. 

-He also really liked watching The Hunger Games but then he realized what it reminded him of and now he steers clear. 

-That, and the fact the Castor and Pollux trope is used. 

-Conner hates musicals. 

»»————-　★　————-««