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a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 1 year

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John Price x Reader

Wounded, bloody, and just the two of you. A mission gone wrong leads to a long overdue moment between both you and your Captain, perhaps too late to count for anything. Not if either of you two can help it at least.

Part One of Two (Possibly Three Part short story).

EDIT* I went back and proofread this again and fixed errors. I didn't realize I posted this in such a crummy state before, I'm sorry!

TW//: Blood, Violence

Angst, Drama, Action, Romance, Near Death Experiences, Confessions, slightly Dark, some Fluffy Dialogue (not a ton though), Tension, slight Suspense, slight Slow Burn, For the girlies who like when their romantic moments feel a little teased and earned, Though this might still be boring garbage, plus the real stuff doesn't start 'til part two. The "developing feelings through almost dying in front of each other" trope, my favorite trope lowkey

This was not the smut piece I have been planning to write for Price (That's still coming), I wanted to practice writing him a little and this sprung on me after playing MW 2019. Figured I'd post it, though this is just to indulge my growing obsession with this man. Let me know if he's OOC, I want to write him well! Enjoy!

Part Two | Part Three

Price's voice suddenly shouts out from the living room, frantic and wired...

"Ambush! Get behind cover!"

...However, his warnings are drowned out by the whistling of an RPG heading straight for your location. It cuts through the evening sky, coming to you as a black dot zipping by at the blink of an eye.

The rocket breaks through the window of the house you and Price had been tasked to raid for intel, as the explosion goes off against one of the walls behind you. The sound which follows is unlike any you've ever heard the likes of before. A piercing, defeaning pop; the loudest and most unpleasant thing imaginable.

The sharp, crashing boom it erupts around you is hot like fire, singing your uniform and blasting you forward. It's the last thing you remember, before being greeted into a world of swirling blacks and oranges. In pain and completely immobile. Momentarily knocked unconscious.

You're not so sure how much time passes before you come to again. Only a handful of minutes or so. Though in that span, you've listened to the sounds of growing gunfire and shouting rise like a terrifying mob outside. Coming in and out in hot flashes.

Had your Captain's shouting not broken through this foggy barrier, you would have thought you'd have just died. You wouldn't be so lucky.

"Lieutenant!" you hear him call out. His voice grows more desperate the longer he hasn't heard from you. "I'm comin'!"

As the dust began to settle, you felt yourself coming back. You groan in pain, your entire body sore from the blast. Brick and stone rubble surround you like a straightjacket. You're pretty sure the entire roof of the house had fallen on top of you just now. Beneath it all, it was hard to tell for certain.

As you lie trapped, waiting to be rescued, you couldn't help but think about the mission. You and Price should have known this was some sort of setup.

Even Laswell had doubts this lead on Makarov wasn't just some trap to lure out their rivals and take them out, but with this recent dry spell on the investigation, your team couldn't afford to pass up the chance at some potentially valuable leads. It's why Laswell kept the team small, sending only you two on this one.

An easy enough operation: infiltrate the building, gather the intel, and get out. Nothing new. Only all you've found in this rinky-dink building on the outskirts of Urzikstan was a handful of AQ remnants and their new Russian PMC allies. And they knew you two were coming too.

The marked house was empty, both of any life and intel. And not even a second later were they all on top of your location, every inch of this town and the hills that surrounded it dug in with hostiles.

You'd have to ask Price later how it was he was able to push back that hoard alone, if you can make it out of this. There's no telling what they'd do to you both if they caught you in here, and that's if they even take you in alive.

You feel bits of rubble being shifted off your body, immense amounts of pressure releasing upon their departure. It's quickly replaced by the sharp bruising and pain it's left in its wake beneath your uniform.

"I'm right here," you hear Price's voice try to soothe you from up above, that gruff Liverpool accent of his clear enough even through the strain and stress. He hasn't let you down a day since you've known him. He wasn't about to make today his first.

Another large bit of rubble gets removed, taking the darkness away and flooding light down from above.

You could have sworn you were looking at an angel when you finally made out the silhouette of the man rescuing you. Your Captain. John Price.

"I've got you," Price assures you, his words felt wracked with adrenaline, hands moving near on impulse.

His hat was gone, short brown hair in a light tussle, and dust and light soot coating the black of his uniform and scruff of his beard. It almost worried you not to see him in it; he never parts from that thing. Perhaps during the blast it had gotten caught in the crossfires and rendered unwearable.

For some reason, it only made the situation feel much more worse than you originally thought.

His blue eyes find yours beneath the rubble, and you watch all the dread he'd been juggling with subside into relief the second he hears you cough out all the dust and wall you'd inhaled, struggling to catch your breath. He sighs to himself with a smile.

He doesn't even hear the words when he says them. Price only says the first thing that came to mind the minute you've finally stopped coughing to see him again.

"Thank fuckin' Christ."

Once Price saw you weren't dead, he finished removing the rubble from off of you. It's the bit he removes from your right arm that finally pulls a pained cry out of you. It's so intense it's as though reality just now set back in for you.

Your entire right arm felt numb from the elbow down, your fingers no longer feeling attached to your body. Had you not held your breath and sucked up the courage to look (with your peripherals first), you would have thought you'd lost your arm in the explosion.

Though it didn't make it any less broken and fucked. Nor did it make it any easier to not become fearful of what this could mean for you.

The Captain immediately notices the condition of your arm once he's cleared the debris off you. Cursing under his breath, Price helps you to your feet, brushing as much dirt from you as he can.

"You broken?" he asks. "Apart from the arm?"

You feel for what weapons still remained attached to your body after the blast, finding just a slender knife and your holstered pistol. Only two clips though. Of course.

Your arm and entire backside ached something fierce, and your brain felt as though it had been rattled inside your head and then some. If you shut your eyes now, you feared fainting dead away, and the ringing in your ears has yet to subside.

But your current state would have to do. It's that or die here. You knew that, and Price knew that too.

"I'm still here, Captain."

Price smiles, his gaze softening for just the slightest second. Happy to see his training and advice being taken seriously.

It just now was beginning to dawn on him that you hadn't died in here with him either. Seeing you OK and still ready to fight felt fuel enough for the Captain to keep going.

"That you are," he says.

Price parts from you to take post back by the freshly made hole in the wall, readying his rifle. Most of the building had collapsed in on itself, with the exception of the back of the house still being mostly intact.

Outside you could see the mountain of bodies Price had no doubt created while you were buried. None made it too close to where your position was.

With the coast temporarily clear, the current objective at hand remained the same: Get to the Evac Zone stat and get the hell out of dodge.

"This building's gonna be surrounded by Russians and AQ in less than a minute if we don't bug out now," Price warns. "And there'll be more where that came from, so ready yourself for a fight."

"Price..."

The Captain looks back at you, hearing the sudden dread in your voice. It takes him having to have stepped away from you to finally see that something really was up.

Your eyes look down to his waist, where you see the blood beginning to pool at his hip, staining his clothing and growing larger by the minute. It's clear he'd used what he could to try and wrap it, though it hadn't been enough. The adrenaline must have taken his mind away from it.

It figures you weren't the only one who got wounded here.

You look back up at Price, worried. Quiet.

Price looks down at his wound, placing a hand against it and seeing the warm, wet liquid coat his tattered glove. Whether it be a front or really only a flesh wound, Price doesn't dare break composure in front of you. You both would need him clearheaded.

"It's nothin' fatal," he simply tells you.

You knew Price wouldn't make a big deal about his injury, even if it were serious, which you honestly could not tell from where you were standing. You also knew Price wouldn't want you to worry about it either. He never liked when you worried for him; that's his job.

The time dwindled all the same; you can worry about it when you both get home.

You look to Price with contentment. You wouldn't be another reason for his worries if you could help it. "It'll make a good story for the boys later."

Price smiles back at you. "You'll tell it better than me, I'm sure."

The growing sound of men shouting and vehicles rushing to flank your position makes your blood run cold. If you didn't leave soon, neither of you would make it out of this to tell your stories.

You try and get that adrenaline you felt before to spike back up, knowing this was a matter of life and death now. Though your body betrayed you.

Your heart won't stop racing, no matter how much you try and calm yourself. Your hands keep shaking, and you can't help but keep checking the recently blasted hole behind you and your Captain. Soon to be flooded with enemies. Afraid.

Price must have noticed your worrying, because he steps away from his position and does something completely outside of himself suddenly. Though as he did so, it couldn't have felt more natural of a thing to do. Like a gesture he's spent his whole life waiting to give you.

He rests his hand gently on your cheek, bringing your eyes forward so you could see nothing beyond his own gaze. This close, even as night falls over the town and darkness shrouds the remains of this little house, this felt the clearest you've ever looked upon your Captain.

There's a glint of determination in his eyes, all the years of experiences that have worn and torn him the older he has gotten, defining the finer parts of his features. His expression always softened at the sight of you, an act you alone pulled from him for the first time truly, now.

Price was here with you. At that moment, it was the only thing that mattered.

"Hey," his thumb caresses your cheek, his jaw clenching to keep from wincing at the pain in his abdomen. "We're alive. Let's keep it that way, yeah? I'm not leavin' here without you."

His jaw tenses once more and you think for a second he might say something else. But he holds his tongue, wanting the most for you to keep calm beside him.

You can feel it in the air around him; the captain's as bugged out as you are right now. He was just doing everything he could to keep being a leader and bottle it up, channeling those fears and turning them into fuel to keep going. His words may be more for himself, than you, but they're true enough.

You lift your good hand up and let it rest over his, feeling his hand stiffen at first, but then find its home against your palm. You didn't want to have to let go, but you knew you must eventually. So you nod. "Damn right, you're not."

Price chuckles, happy to see you on the same page. "Fuckin' A, love," he quickly quips. "Now let's move."

The rocky hills stretched further out ahead of you. At some point their edges seem to blend with the black of the sky, all the stars gone away someplace. Luck would see a full moon above your heads, providing the only bit of light on this makeshift route to the Evac Zone.

You have Price's arm over your left shoulder now, having to help him the rest of the way since you've escaped the base. No amount of tough guy act the Captain put on could prevent the amount of blood he'd been losing. Had he not started tumbling over mid-shootout suddenly, you wouldn't have even known. And you wanted to kill him yourself once you did too.

It's nothin' fatal, he had said. The lie of the fucking century, right?

By now his dark blood has practically stained the entire lower right side of his body, making his skin pale and his eyelids heavy. His movements slowed, his reflexes taking a severe hit because of it, and he was beginning to breathe heavier. You've gone through all your supplies trying to stop his bleeding before leaving the house. Nothing worked.

It had been infuriating, just as it'd been scary to realize that your Captain really did need a medic right now. If he didn't see a doctor soon, he might just bleed to death before you've made it out of here.

Of course, having to help him now meant you couldn't shoot at all, given the state of your other arm. Price helped with what he could, but even a man of his talents couldn't prevent shaky shots from increasing blood loss.

"Nikolai's not far out now," Price grunted out, doing his best to put one more clip into his pistol. The last one. "Should be a few more clicks along this trail."

"He couldn't fly a little closer," you huff out, readjusting your hold on the Captain. He wasn't a light man, and while he did everything in his power to make this easier for you, his weakening state only grew harder to carry.

"You holdin' up alright?" Price asks. You feel him once again, ready himself to try and pull away and stand on his own feet. Having to rely on you was eating away at him, you could tell.

"I'm fine," you tell him, though that's not all the way true. Your vision had started to blur, and your lungs felt on fire. Now that some time has passed, all your once numb injuries were suddenly starting to scream at you for relief. Had you not been concentrating on your steps in front of you, or the thumping of your heart inside your ringing ears, you would have fainted already.

But you were all Price had right now; there was no way you'd fail him when he needed you most. "I'm more worried about you, Captain."

"Still got my wits about me..." he says. "Maybe a little lighter now, given I've been leakin' like a faucet."

"I'd beg to differ."

"Eh, you can use the exercise, lieutenant."

"Or you can lose the weight, Captain."

You both chuckle, and for a second, it felt easier to pretend you both were somewhere else right now. Spending all the time together you only wish you had before.

The levity was needed. It kept you both sane and human, and right now, Price was kicking himself in the ass for not appreciating these moments with you sooner.

The team really lucked out when they recruited you, he saw that now. You've always made sure you were someone Price could trust. That you were someone he could depend on you. You kept a cool head and you did what you must, while staying both good-natured and sweet, despite everything.

And when everything was said and done, you came back to him, keeping a smile as neutral as his own could manage. Your eyes bright like stars with him in your sights. His would often do the same.

All the times you've been at his side before tonight, keeping his head on straight when he needed it most, and always reminding him of life outside of all of this, they've only increased over the years. In every moment it always felt as though you two only teetered at the next level of your fondness for one another. Both wanting to push further, but not wanting to push the other too quickly either.

Your roles on the team always came first; they seemed to be the most important thing at the time.

Every lingering touch, a longing gaze brought by excitement and recognition, a check-in during work, or a brief moment of conversation... that's where your relationship has stayed for years now. You both felt OK with that. You thought so at first.

However, Price knew one thing. He couldn't lose you tonight. He wouldn't. Not on his account. Not when there's so much more that can still be. John's lived long enough to know that when something feels this right, there is no time to waste, lest he lose that chance forever like he has with so many others before.

You feel Price grow slack against your side now, his blood starting to soak through your uniform. It took everything in you not to panic.

"I won't let you fall," you assure him now, adjusting him against you. "Just keep holding on."

The smell of blood is so strong, you'll never forget its scent long after you've left this place. Nor would you forget seeing your Captain this way. Hurt and broken. You know he's no stranger to it, but alas, John is still human.

"...I'm taking you out for dinner after this," Price up and says suddenly. He figures he should just throw that out there, in case he didn't get another chance to. "My treat."

You nearly trip when you hear him, as if you're heart needed any more of a reason to fluctuate. You lost count of how long you've waited to hear him say that, having spent so many nights daydreaming about a time he'd come up to you and actually asked you out. It felt like everything you imagined it would; if only it had been under better circumstances.

"Is that a promise, Captain?"

"You know I wouldn't bluff about that, love."

"Well, then you better keep it then, John."

"As you wish."

He could hardly understand how it was you were still able to push through all that growing pain in your body after taking such a blast. He couldn't be more proud of it either.

The town illuminated like a glowing city behind you, AQ and Russians creating an uproar there, regardless of your presence. It was no longer your problem, however. The approaching convoy heading your direction was.

You weren't out of the fire just yet.

You look around yourselves, only having a few large rocks and boulders to hide behind in your immediate vicinity. Little word is needed to be shared between you two before the plan was nonverbally green-lit.

You both take cover behind a large rock facing the hills, Price resting down against the rock as you took out your pistol. It was time to see if your shooting with your left hand has improved any more than it did a few minutes ago during your escape.

You peak over the stone, seeing four AQ soldiers step out with rifles and flashlights, already hot on your pursuit. Tracking the trail of blood you'd left behind. Price peaks around the other side of the rock, raising his pistol.

"You take the two on the right," he whispers. "I got left."

You nod, and then take position. Price takes the first shot, dropping both his targets with swift precision. Even wounded, the man always had a way with pistols. Forever the dead-eye shot.

You drop one AQ soldier, happy to see your aim improve. However, your heart sinks when you go to shoot the other soldier and you hear the click of your pistol suddenly. Out of ammo.

The AQ soldier fires at you, the bullet just grazing by your cheek, before another hits you straight at the center of your chest, rattling your sternum and knocking you off your feet. Without your bulletproof vest, that bullet would have torn straight through you. Though you might as well have died, with the pain it sent through you instead. Knocking the wind out of you.

Before you know it, Price has reached over and started pulling you back behind the boulder. "Hold on!" he says. "You're not dead yet."

Price goes to try and get to his knees and peek over the boulder, however, now that he's sat back behind the rock again with you, it's become an impossible task to even wiggle his feet at this point. Like his legs were losing feeling. The blood loss really was starting to catch up to him now, it seems.

So instead, Price did the next best thing, simply waiting for the AQ soldier to round the corner, which he stupidly does. The minute the enemy's head peaks over, Price shot twice for good measure, watching the man drop to the ground with a heavy thud.

"I think we're clear," he says. "Still breathing?"

"Yeah," you gasp out.

A lot of times, you're not sure if you'd make it through a lot of these missions if Price wasn't here. The true backbone of the 141. The man always just seemed to be prepared for anything, even with the odds stacked against him. Often feeling like some other worldly being on the field, unable to be truly harmed by the threats he faced.

Until now, you couldn't even picture him so hurt.

When Price went on a mission, you could trust he'd get it done, if no one else. And you could always trust he'd make it back too. One way or another. Of course, he wasn't always lucky, as rare as those days actually came. Luck seemed to only be a recent thing for him in fact, and of short supply tonight.

You push yourself up, rubbing your hand over your chest in an attempt to soothe the throbbing. You're unsure what bad juju you yourself had crossed, or why lady luck seemed on your side even despite it all, but maybe fate wanted you to make it out of here.

One of you at least.

You look over at Price and see him barely able to keep consciousness now, cold sweat forming at the sides of his face, and a puddle of blood building around his legs. His breathing broken. Dying.

Seeing him now, pale, bloodied, and relying on a rock behind him to keep himself upright... for the first time ever you felt fear for your Captain.

"No, no, no," you rush over to Price, taking hold of his face and bringing his eyes to you. Seeing them so close again wakes him somewhat. "Stay with me, Captain."

"I'm still here..." Price answers weakly. Even still, he tries to keep up an act in front of you, like he truly was fine. It only made you more afraid to lose him now. Out in some rocky hilltop in the middle of nowhere because of bad intel. You couldn't lose him like this.

You look over the boulder, seeing the convoy those AQ soldiers showed up in still running a few feet ahead of you. Just what you needed.

"Can you stand?" You ask.

"...I'll need help," he said.

"OK, OK..." You take a deep breath, plotting everything out in your head before taking Price's hand in yours. "There's a convoy over there we can take to the Evac Zone. It'll be faster than going on foot."

You start trying to pull Price up, feeling the man use all the strength he can muster to try and push off the ground and back to his feet. Having one hand to help him didn't make matters easier, however. He made it halfway before falling back against the cold stone with a sharp grunt and some swearing.

Rather than comment, you take Price's hand again, feeling your face turn red with trying to lift him. He gets his knees bent to stand this time, but whenever any weight was applied afterward, an aggressive pain would awkwardly shoot through his body, taking all the momentum from him and causing him to sink back down. And with how heavy he was, you couldn't stop him once he it happened.

Price falls back against the rock again, as frustrated as you are about it all. He can't even bring himself to look you in your eye he's so mad, ashamed of the situation. It's not like him to be the one holding things back. He shouldn't have gotten wounded like this in the first place, he felt.

"...If you go and get help, I can manage here 'til then," Price starts to say. Feeling like a burden, he no longer wished to hold you down. But you wouldn't hear it.

"Fuck that," you protest. "I didn't carry you all the way over here to leave you so you can bleed out."

"...You didn't do it to die here either." He grabs at his side, gritting his teeth along to that burning pain he felt, as the taste of iron tinted the back of his throat now. "Look, this ain't how I plan on goin' out, trust me. Plus we've still got that dinner, yeah?"

Price smiles at you after he says it, and it takes everything in you not to cry. An unspoken reality lingered in the air soon after, because you both knew what it'd mean if you couldn't pick him up from this spot. You'd give anything to not make that so.

You hear more vehicles heading your way from the town. A good handful of them now. Too many. All armed and ready to take out the two 141 soldiers responsible for killing their friends. You knew if you left Price here now, you wouldn't see him again.

"Fuck..." Out of breath and defeated, sorrow starts to settle in and you swallow it down, letting the feelings stir into frustration. "Why'd we wait so long, John?"

Price felt at a loss for words. "I don't know..." he admits. He couldn't quite give you an answer for that; it had always just been... something. He could at least look you in your eyes when he spoke to you now. "But... I'm sorry for that," he says. "Probably should have said somethin' sooner, huh."

You have to bite your cheek to keep from letting his words fill you with so much sorrow and regret. "You and me both."

Fearful that these may actually be your final moments with your Captain, now you wish he hadn't said anything at all, not knowing you'd be losing him so soon after. Leave it to Price to twist the knife in a wound you didn't even know had now grown.

However, Price did not share your begrudging feelings about how things turned out. He'd just been happy finally getting that off his chest. Now, if you could just get to safety then if he did die tonight he'd be satisfied enough with things.

"Better late than never, right?" Price chuckles through the pain. And then he grows quiet. "You know I've always had a pension for dramatic timing."

The vehicles in the distance getting closer now. There was no more time for further talking.

"Forever the attention seeker, Captain," you comment.

"Yours is all I ever needed."

You look back to the town a final time, seeing the convoys getting closer. You take a deep breath, and then you reapproach your Captain, taking his hand. You prepare yourself to try and lift Price back up to his feet again. "Well, you've got it."

"Now hold on-"

"No," you didn't want to hear any more of his excuses to be left behind. If helping him means you both die here, then that was something you were willing to risk. "I'm not leaving you here, so give it up already."

With one final pull, you use all the strength you have left in you to lift your Captain up to his feet. He uses your momentum to push himself up from the boulder, actually managing to stand, though it feels as though his guts are about to spill out of him when he does.

As he's teetering over, you quickly grab hold of his arm, restabilizing him, and trying not to jump too much for joy that you actually got him up this time.

You take his arm and wrap it back around your shoulder, as you guided him over to the convoy.

"We're damn near home free, Captain," you say. "Just hold on a little longer. You'll make it. You're the toughest man I know."

He is the toughest man you knew. A man ready to jump into the fire to save others in need. A man that can shrug off a helicopter crash, take a beating and still keep from succumbing. You knew he'd never go down without a fight, and it's why you felt so safe beside him. It's why you wouldn't leave him.

You open the passenger door and help Price inside.

"...You really want that dinner, don't you?" he teases you.

"Is that even a question?" You check to make sure the vehicle can still run, feeling for any tracking devices that might overcomplicate your escape. Once you see you're good to go, you buckle your seat belt and take the wheel. "Yeah, I want that dinner. Now stop bleeding and sit tight."

"Yes, ma'am."

Next stop, the Evac Zone.

Part Two

#call of duty #john price x reader #captain price #captain john price #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty mwii #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #might add music later #perhaps an orchestra #I'm a film major #I love drama

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oifaaa · 9 months

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do ya reckon in the dead for Irl time Jason au Tim will ever get his stuff together or will he be perpetually cringe forever? cause while this Tim slander is hilarious it also feels like I'm looking at a ten-hour plane crash compilation on yt played at 0.25 speed.

Yeah don't worry I very much hate sad endings or the notion that characters have to have shitty lives forever so tims life will get better he will have a decent relationship with his daughters and who knows maybe actually get into a stable relationship

#ask #anon #like i said everyones lives are pretty shitty rn #but it just means theres room for growth #development #that is still a long way off tho #tim has to have a wee breakdown at bernards and kons wedding first #bc you know #i love drama

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fangirl201sworld · 4 months

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Hey, hey, I just watched episode 7, and after an hour of internal crying, I imagined a "what if...?" which has the potential to be a total drama.

I don't know if Mictlan can also control the gods with his mind control (including the demigods), but imagine this: What if Mictlan had mind controlled Zatz instead of trapping him with the snakes?

This is also a reference to a headcanon I have with Zatz, but I'll talk about that another day.

#maya and the three #maya y los tres #maya and the 3 #zatz prince of bats #what if #I love drama #lord mictlan #maya x zatz

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navnae · 1 year

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I’d love to see the reaction of Steve’s parents when they come home from their trip to surprise Steve for Christmas. They walk into the house with big smiles on their face as they try to be as quiet as possible so the surprise wouldn’t be ruined. When they peek their heads into the living room the smiles on their faces drop immediately when they see Steve on top of Eddie on the couch kissing. His mom gasp from the scene that’s taking place and Steve jumps off of Eddie with a squeal, Eddie isn’t bothered in the slightest he just keeps a sly smile on his face. All of them are consumed by silence and none of them really know what to say. Steve just knows he’s going to have to explain what happened in the past few months for things to end up here which was a conversation he wasn’t ready for.

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space1cat · 1 year

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SP unpopular opions

Style is a mid overrated ship same goes with Stendy except its underrated

(P.S Before you comment anything, no i dont hate Style, I'm fine if you do ship it I just don't like the ship that goes to Stendy as well, theres a difference between hating something and not liking something)

(2P.S I dont ship both ships if I haven't made it clear enough, and Im not saying that one ship is better than the other both ships are mid)

(3P.S Also if you say "nobody cares about your opion bro" then dont fucking comment because it seems like to me that you do care because why ypou would comment anything if you do not care about my fucking opion) (4P.S Also fuck off Im not clogging up the tag, and Im not gonna block the tags because guess hat I dont fucking hate the ships! I just dont ship them! Theres a difference you fucking morons!)

(5P.S I dont give a shit so shut the fuck up <3)

(6P.S I love causing drama <3)

#south park #sp kyle #sp stan #sp stan marsh #stan marsh #south park kyle #sp kyle broflovski #sp style #stan x kyle #stendy #sp stendy #wendy x stan #stand x wendy #wendy testaburger #i love drama #i love causing drama #these comments are so fuckign funny #its so funny seeing people get this fucking made and offended by this stupid fucking post

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nuka-cherries · 1 year

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WHAT IF GREG FIRES TOM THEN IMMEDIATELY HIRES HIM AS HIS ASSISTANT AHHHAHAHA HOW TURNED HAVE THE TABLES MOTHERFUCKERSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

#tomgreg #esme makes a text post #tom wambsgans #greg hirsch #I LOVE DRAMA

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yenforfairytales · 11 months

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We need an AU with teenage!Daniel in cut off shorts and band tees, and his long suffering neighbor young!Kreese (maybe on leave from the army?) who is totally tormented by this little tease.

Daniel, licking a vanilla ice cream slowly, leaning over the fence with his ass out, all sunkissed and gorgeous: Oh heyyyy John, didn’t know you were there!

John, dying on the inside: …hey kid. [Do Not Rail Him. Do Not Rail Him. Do Not—]

Daniel, sucks on the cherry: Mmm!

John: Yeah, jail’s worth it.

And they were neighbors! NSFW!!!!

----

Kreese braces himself as he passes by the nonfunctioning pool in his complex, taking the steps up to his second-level apartment as measured and purposeful as he can.

Because going up the stairs to his apartment means walking by his next door neighbor. There's no avoiding it.

And normally that wouldn't be a bad thing, but his new neighbor's kid has taken to hanging out right in front of his door, leaning over the railing like there's anything in the courtyard worth looking at.

Kreese curses silently to himself as he pulls his keys out, steadfastly facing his door and not the half-naked twink behind him.

Just his luck that the kid and his mother moved in near the start of summer.

Summer means no school.

Summer means the boy has nothing better to do than pester Kreese in the least amount of clothes as possible.

And he is a boy.

Sixteen, the boy's mother had said.

Although, Kreese wasn't much older when his own mother had died and he'd had to find multiple meager jobs to pay his own bills. Not long after when a gun was placed in his hands to defend a nation.

Kreese is interrupted of his musings by an obscenely loud suck.

He turns to see the little cocktease smacking his lips around some melted ice cream. The boy then wraps those lips around a cherry while creamy vanilla drips down the cone in his hand, leaving gleaming trails along a slender wrist.

"Hey, John," the boy says. "Hope you don't mind the mess. I'll clean it up, I promise."

Kreese can tell there's a smirking playfulness in the kid's eyes, even behind the aviator sunglasses he's wearing.

"Hey, kid."

Kreese can feel his pulse race as his heart beats wildly. It's not going to happen again. It's not.

The last time was the last time.

He's stronger than this. He should have never touched the kid-- Daniel to begin with.

But the thing was, the thing was...

Kreese hadn't felt good once since he'd come home from 'Nam. There wasn't a whole lot in his life that had ever felt good.

"Your mom at work?"

----

Gasps and moans fill Kreese's small bedroom as Daniel rides him like he'll die if he doesn't.

His skin is still hot, sunkissed from being outside, and Kreese groans as he watches his cock disappear again and again into Daniel's body as the kid bounces with enthusiasm in his lap. Just like the first time.

"Fuck, fuck."

Kreese is forced to throw his head back against the mattress. It's so good, so tight that he has to keep himself from shouting out.

Wet slaps in rhythm with the squeak of well-worn bed springs.

Daniel loves it. Eyes squeezed shut as he chases the feeling of something deep inside him, building and sparking. He braces his hands against John's chest for leverage; if he can just get John a little deeper, a little harder...

An itch that needs scratching.

John's hands grip Daniel's hips tight enough to leave bruises but glide down, slick with sweat, to squeeze Daniel's ass.

Daniel cries out, breathy moans getting louder as his body clenches around the hard cock inside him. So close, so close...

"Ah-! God, yes- please-!"

Daniel comes almost painfully on a down thrust. Feels it all the way down to his toes.

Kreese follows a second later-- the sounds Daniel makes, along with his body sucking him in deep as he rides out the waves of his orgasm, too much for anyone.

They moan together as they come down from the high. Daniel's hole occasionally clenching in aftershocks that make them both shudder in pleasure.

Daniel collapses over Kreese and nuzzles in close under the older man's jaw, completely blissed out.

Daniel hums happily. "That was great! Why'd you make us wait so long?"

Kreese wraps a muscular arm around Daniel to pull him in close. His other hand running along his own face to fight off the post-coital fatigue. To fight off the disbelief of his situation.

"Three days is a long time to you?" Kreese grumbles tiredly. "Don't come crying to me when your mother suspects something. I'll deny everything."

Daniel's heard this lecture before. Several times. About stopping before getting caught. About how John is too old for him, too bad, too wrong for him, too male. Too, too, too. He grins.

"C'mon," Daniel coos, running his fingers over Kreese's chest. "She's too busy working to notice. And besides, I'll be cleaned up and in bed before she even gets home."

Kreese stops brooding long enough to finally look at Daniel, a small smile forming before he places a soft kiss against the boy's temple.

Daniel snuggles in closer and laughs as they wrap their arms around each other a little tighter.

"I should get going, actually," he sighs.

Kreese grumbles again, placing more kisses on Daniel's cheek. His lips.

"Can I get my sunglasses back?"

"Not a chance."

----

Things continue on like this. Stolen moments whenever they have the opportunity.

John has the distinct feeling that if it were up to Daniel, with his teenage libido, they'd fuck no less than 10 times a day. But as it is, John is only one man, and he keeps the little punk at bay as much as he reasonably can.

He has to laugh at himself sometimes. He'll be lucky if he doesn't end up in Hell, let alone jail.

But since when has John's life ever been fair? And he's tired of denying himself something he wants.

Every day John grows a little bolder. A little angrier. It isn't fear holding him back. Fear doesn't exist.

It's that Daniel could be taken away from him. Separated. Just like--

And why shouldn't he have Daniel?

Who could possibly stop him?

----

John lets out a guttural growl as he comes inside Daniel, hips rolling as he continues to pulse and twitch inside him.

He has the boy bent over at the waist, leaning over him as he's pressed against the wall. They didn't even make it to the bedroom this time, fucking in the hallway after having gotten their pants down.

John pulls out and blows out a breath. His chest feels like he's run a marathon.

They right their pants as Daniel tells Kreese he has to leave soon anyway. His mother had called to say she'd be home early, and who knows when that'll be.

Kreese walks him to the door and smirks as he watches Daniel move a little gingerly. It makes his dick twitch again, but only because he knows Daniel loves the feeling.

Daniel opens the door and spins back around in the threshold.

"Oh! Hey, so I was thinking--"

"Careful. Wouldn't want to hurt yourself."

"--Hah. What a comedian. No, I was going to say, why don't I come over later tonight? You know, when my ma is asleep?"

It's risky. Makes plausible deniability more difficult.

They'd have to be quiet.

Kreese stares into the kid's hopeful eyes. They were initially what had drawn Kreese to him.

That first day when the kid's mother had caught him on his way to work. Introduced themselves to him.

Kreese had looked at the boy, standing off to the side with a defiant pout. Really looked. He had a black eye and was all the more beautiful for it.

Even then, the kid had stood out. Something in those eyes that called to the deepest parts of John and said chase me, I dare you.

His mother had explained that her son was always getting into fights, and Kreese had felt a tiny twinge in his heart.

Memories of being knocked into lockers. Books shoved off his desk. Bruised knuckles and detention.

Now, Kreese looks into those beautiful brown eyes, with their own light as bright and burning as amber, and knows it was always inevitable.

"I'll leave the door unlocked."

----

Kreese shoves Daniel down onto the bed, overwhelmed that they have all night.

He slicks up his cock with one hand while the other runs greedily over miles of smooth, golden skin.

Daniel spreads his legs in invitation, anticipating the first push of the older man inside him.

Kreese lines himself up with Daniel's glistening hole, soft and yielding as he slowly inches his cock into him.

Daniel sucks in a breath through his teeth. The initial stretch and burn always a little surprising, but always welcome.

John pushes and pulls slowly, rocking into the boy, letting the slick sounds of the gentle slide of his cock into that hole drive him even crazier.

Daniel's moaning quietly with every stroke, not that he thinks they'd really wake anyone up, but he knows they both have to reign it in a little, and for some reason that only adds to the little thrill up his spine. He lets out a shaky breath.

"Okay," he tells Kreese.

That's all the man needs to hear to start fucking him harder, picking up a steady and heavy pace.

Kreese spends long minutes in blissful pleasure, but suddenly it's not enough. He rises up on his knees and throws one of Daniel's legs over his shoulder, wrapping his arms around the supple thigh to pull the boy back onto every quickening thrust.

Daniel's huffing and gasping as Kreese starts pounding into him-- a man on a mission. All he can do is grasp weakly at Kreese's thighs, the sounds of the older man grunting and moaning going straight to Daniel's dick.

The orgasm catches Daniel by surprise. He had felt it cresting and just barely had enough time to wrap a hand around his bouncing dick before he was coming and sobbing.

Kreese chokes on a groan as he watches Daniel come over his hand, his own orgasm pulled from him quite literally. He leans over the boy with taut arms, stilling his hips to savor every pulse of his seed into the warm body beneath him.

Daniel's practically useless afterwards, halfway to sleep as Kreese grabs a cum rag and cleans them both up. He collapses on the bed next to Daniel, pulling him into an easy embrace.

After a minute, Kreese gets up again. He sets his alarm for 5am. That should be early enough for Daniel to sneak back into his own apartment.

Kreese frowns at the thought. But for now, he'll let the kid sleep.

----

It's one Saturday that finds Kreese milling around his apartment, waiting for his best friend to show up.

They have plans to look at potential locations for their own karate dojo. A shared dream that went from the enthused talk of young soldiers trying to pass the time to an actual, legitimate possibility.

John smiles as he hears the stomping footfalls of someone running up the concrete stairs. That must be Terry.

He grabs his wallet and keys but pauses when he hears voices outside his door.

One of them is definitely the smooth rumble of Terry's, but the other sounds an awful lot like Daniel's.

They're laughing together.

Something inside Kreese clenches as he flings the door open a little harder than intended.

Terry and Daniel turn to Kreese in surprise.

For some reason what's even worse, is Daniel dressed in nothing but a pair of red gym shorts. Kreese can feel his blood boil inexplicably.

"What do you want?" He snarls before he can stop himself.

Daniel's eyes widen like a deer in headlights before his brow furrows, eyes burning with bright fury.

"Nothin'," he snaps back. "I was on my way out."

Daniel makes a show of walking towards the staircase and Kreese can't help himself.

"Your mother let you walk around like that?"

Daniel sticks his tongue out and lifts one side of his shorts, revealing the black strap of a jockstrap framed around one round butt cheek. He's gone before John can say anything else.

"Jesus," Terry says with feeling.

Kreese has half a mind to run down the stairs after Daniel and beat the shit out of him.

He clutches the keys in his hand until it hurts.

"Let's go," he commands instead.

----

Daniel doesn't speak to him for one long miserable week.

None of the dojo locations had worked out either.

----

Daniel forgives John even if he never did apologize. He tells himself he gets it.

John is kind of like a caveman that way. Jealous and possessive.

It's only because he cares, Daniel reasons.

But he has to explain to John that California summers are ungodly hot. And he only has the one pair of shorts.

His friend was nice, though.

----

John gets a dizzying sense of deja vú as he and Terry shoot the shit in front of his apartment, ready for another day of dojo hunting.

There's a building for lease that looks especially promising, Terry says.

Daniel steps out of his apartment and waves at them as he passes.

At least he's wearing actual clothes this time; a black tshirt cut into a tank top and a pair of denim shorts cut from an old pair of jeans.

The kid could be a little less generous with the scissors, if he'd bother to ask John's opinion.

It's only a minute later when Daniel is bounding up the stairs again, stopping abruptly in front of the two older men.

"Hey, hi, do you guys have a dollar?" he asks excited and breathless with all the youthfulness of his age.

Terry makes a show of patting his pockets.

"Sorry, I'm all out," he says before leaning down towards Daniel conspiratorially. "You want a cigarette?"

Daniel laughs in surprise, absolutely delighted.

"No, no," Daniel honest to God giggles. "My friends and I wanna go see a movie, but I only have enough for the bus. I was hoping I could borrow a dollar? I promise I'll pay it back!"

Kreese is pulling out his wallet and shoving a five into Daniel's hand before Terry can say anything.

"Keep it," he smiles.

Maybe the kid can really treat himself and get some popcorn or something.

Daniel smiles back a little moony-eyed. Clearly wanting to say something he can't in front of John's friend. He moves back towards the stairs a little dazed.

"Hey, thanks. Really. I appreciate it." He bounds back down to the small group of neighborhood kids waiting for him. "See you around!"

Kreese watches them until Daniel disappears around the corner with the other kids.

He doesn't want to look at Terry, who undoubtedly will be looking back at him with every judgement in the world.

Instead, Kreese is surprised to see that Terry is turned away from him, still looking after where Daniel had gone too.

"Hm," Terry muses to himself before swiveling back towards Kreese. "Cute kid."

Kreese says nothing.

"Have you asked him about joining Cobra Kai?" Terry asks.

Kreese blinks.

"I- I hadn't thought about it."

He really hadn't. Daniel? In their world of warriors and battlegrounds? It never crossed his mind.

John catches himself, scoffs. "That skinny punk? He isn't exactly Cobra Kai material."

Terry's staring at him with a hard expression.

Crystal-eyes cold and calculating.

Hateful.

But just like that, the strange spell is broken, and Terry himself breaks out into one of his signature grins.

Even if it doesn't quite reach his burning eyes.

"Well, you have to start somewhere, right? C'mon," he claps John on the shoulder. "Let's get going. We can get some drinks after. My treat."

John stands a little frozen as Terry swaggers down the stairs.

There's ice and dread creeping up his veins. Something John hasn't felt since Vietnam.

Because Terry's never looked at him like that before.

----

#it got a little angsty y'all #i couldn't help myself #i love drama #hope you like <3 #thank you anon #asks #my fic #lakreese #hint of #silverusso #krilverusso #we all float down here

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chrollohearttags · 6 months

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CANT BELIEV3 YOU GIVING ROCKSTAR JEAN AWAY TO OTHER GIRLS YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL BOUT THAT MAN

SJDHDG BUT BAE HEAR ME OUTT! What if we’re actually snatching him back? 👀 i mean, he could be leaving Miss Mikasa for us—

#or maybe not #maybe i’m delusional #cherry chats 🍒#imma leave it a mystery #aot x black reader #musician x influencer au #musician au #aot au #jean kirschstein #aot angst #i love drama

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autistic-britta-perry · 7 months

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this is SO funny Maxo was so worried bc he doesn't know that they'll just let them try again if they get all even numbers lmao

#the tense music ... the yelling...#i love drama #q!maximus #qsmp #q!maxo THINKS HE'S GETTING OUT OF THE ISLAND LMAO RIP #when I said that in the post I meant cc!maxo in fact he later was like 'they didn't tell me I'd have another chance'

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mezucore · 9 months

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i'll steal the only thing that seto cherishes.

#i finished the noah arc recently and it was such a banger story #i love drama #yu-gi-oh #ygo #mokuba kaiba #noah kaiba

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sugarssims · 3 days

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OMGGG this man is crazy. After all that, he didn't break up with her right away, which also means that he wouldn't leave her alone. He kept trying to ask her on dates and wouldn't stop calling so she had to tell him off. If Mathew has no haters, I'm dead.

#i love drama #Gen 6 #Layla Forthright #sims 3 #sims 3 legacy #sims 3 gameplay #sims 3 screenshots

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kero-verdade · 1 year

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why do all these upcoming dramas look messy af (I will be tuning in)

#not one normal relationship happening here #the interest of love #the fabulous #the glory #<- waiting for reviews on that one first #I love drama #mine

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laufire · 15 days

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"this piece of fiction would be better if it was normal and mundane and low-key and not melodramatic at all" never speak to me again.

#i love DRAMA #i love high stakes #i want ENHANCED EMOTIONS and LARGER THAN LIFE characters #i get low-key elsewhere #talking to the void #my thoughts #fandom nonsense

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boxwinebaddie · 2 months

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is fingerbang in rm?

oooooh...iiiiinteresting.

but i'm gonna say no. :/

i Wish i could put them in rm because that would be so iconic, but there's just too much crossover with the characters; i wouldn't know how to work it into the story with everything going on already.

however! i will raise you this:

so back in the stone ages when i used to run the BWB twitter, i came across a post that you might remember me retweeting/replying to a tweet with a picture of fingerbang kyle and regular stan in it.

at the top of the post, someone retweeted it saying something to the effect of 'ugh, i hate celebrity x fan plots, so boring lol' and maybe it's petty but that made me heeeellla overprotective and Viciously Angry bc that's the plot premise of my entire fanfic and i literally don't think it's boring at all??? yes, i'm insane.

that pissed me off, lmao.

but anyways i was looking at that picture of finger bang kyle and regular boy stan and was like...oh my god it's just rm in reverse???

so here's my pitch for the reverse remember au fic aka...

forget?

shdlkshdlkah

so i think that the plot premise or chapter one would hinge on the fact that it is shelley's birthday. and for shelley's birthday, she and her friend got two tickets to go see finger bang live and in concert, world famous boy band, like one direction, beatle-mania level famous.

buuuuuut her friend backs out at the last minute, so she's left with this extra ticket and that girl was her ride so she basically can't go.

let's leave that off to the side for a moment though, so i can tell you a little about what i think forget au stan marsh would be like...

who i think...

is an absolute fucking LOSER.

like i am talking major loner-stoner energies, has literally one friend and i think its butters who is also his roommate, never goes outside, literally just holes up in his room playing his guitar, writes a bunch of really dark edgelordy songs no one will ever hear — they are actually quite good, but again, sort of political and bleak and beat-poetic, is a serious music snob, like really really fucking annoying about music...might bring him working at vinyl tap back, but i also support city wok delivery boy stan, basically only goes outside to barely pay attention in class ( he's a music major at cu denver ), go to work so that he can buy more pizza, beer, video games and i think he's saving up for a really fancy guitar or to see shows which are his safe place.

i predict that he probably is still bleach blonde stan, i maintain that he can still be half mexican like ravenstan, could be really cute if he brushed his hair and stopped slouching, vegetarian, wears the same beanie from high school, rotates the same like four or five tee shirts which are all covered in stains, full of holes, etc. most of them are band shirts or 100% hemp tegridy farms work shirts from when he was working there in high school which he barely got through, btw, cs get degrees, probably wears the iconic stan leather jacket that is obnoxiously covered in pins, big baggy jeans, like, huge, and ofc, the stan marsh combat boots bc he's an midwest emo king.

i assume he has all the stan piercings, certainly the nose one...should i give him the ravenstan lip piercing for shits and gigs? some tattoos?

but yeah, i love him but he's pathetic. he has like zero social skills. he had one girlfriend and it was wendy and they broke up a million times because he kept accidentally fucking up by boyfailing too hard. bi but i don't think he really knows that. like i feel like he has some bi panic moments but he kind of just takes a shot and swallows those down and tries not to think about it so stan probably thinks he's straight.

interesting.

anyways! stan is gearing up to go to this gigantic metal festival that he's ben waiting for..Forever but then gets a call from his mom who is like "stanley marsh, it is your SISTER'S BIRTHDAY! you are driving her to this concert and that is final!" he complains soooooo much like shelley why are you fucking ruining my life to go see gay one direction????? holy shit???? i hate my life????

but the hotel room(s) are already paid for and stan has the tegridy farms family truck ( riley made me moderately obsessed with little beat up pick up truck farm boy stan i love him ) aka weed for speed aka mary jane ( she is stan's baby ) so he picks shelley up who tries to play finger bang the whole way there but stan is a snob and he is like i am driving i am picking the music, but shelley and him keep fightng and probably break the radio and they have to sit in silence hdlksah, the whole time shelley is going on and on and ON about finger bang and how obsessed she is specifically with kyle, who stan doesn't know much about other than the fact that he is little and ginger?

sigh we can have tall boyfail loser midwest emo weed farm skater boy stan and short cute fresh faced world famous popstar kyle as a treat, you are welcome to everyone, but mostly riley.

also because i gave jersey an accent, i mean, i don't think forget finger bang stan has a super strong accent but there's probably a little twang there just from being all the way out there in super hick nowheresville rural colorado, it kind of embarasses him so he doesn't talk much or very loudly at all, might have a slight stammer?

idk i love him he's a qt. <3

anyways they get there and it is PACKED!!!!! it is literally hell, stan is so overstimulated holy shit, like forget ( why am i calling it that like that is so fucking funny ) stan is so introverted, he is not vibing. also because it's all mostly screaming girls with signs and stuff, shelley is one of them, she is holding up this really obnoxious one that says 'DEFILE ME, KYLE' on it like gOOOOOOD.

he's in hell fr fr fr.

but it gets worse because right before they are about to get in, this group of rabid fans runs by and one of them knocks her red sugary drink all over stan and completely douses his shirt. he's ready to die. the hotel is too far away, so he has to go into the stadium store and buy something to wear but sigh...the only option...

is black tee-shirt with the words FINGERBANG ME <3 in a big pink glittery font...but sigh...*raven vc* at least it's black. he has no choice but to buy it rip the guitar fund.

he goes back in with shelley and the finger bang boys come out i think its cartman, kenny, kyle and wendy but...wendyl? might be kinda spicy if stan's ex-boyfriend was in fb, also bc that makes him confused about his sexuality...nina rm/fb trans rights, baby!

stan hates everything about their upbeat, capitalistic, commercialist vibe, all of it is really obnoxious bubble gum pop stuff meant to be peddled to teenage girls, its almost propaganda and makes stan sick.

which, speaking of, the songs are bad, but the singing, he's realizing, is actually quite good, particularly the singing done by the little ginger finger bang boy who shelley is obsessed with who...for some reason stan really cannot take his eyes off of. he also thinks he might be crazy but he swears they accidentally locked eyes a couple times, which meant stan had to take a swig of flask he stashed in his jacket.

but i'm gonna finish this post out with a bang or, rather, a finger bang if you will, because i think ala the virigin sacrifice schtick in rm, they probably single some audience members out...

shelley picks the extremely oppurtune moment before that happens to use the restroom and basically pawns her gigantic DEFILE ME KYLE SIGN off on him, so he's just holding this kyle sign and the FINGER BANG ME teeshirt so naturally, fingerbang kyle thinks he's a fan, gets really close to him, winks, steals his beanie, replaces it with his white, blingy, fluffy ushanka and says

"Hey Cutie,

Wanna Get Finger Banged?" <3 ;) xxx

LKHDSLKSHLKHSLKHD I CAN JUST SEE RURAL BOY MIDWEST EMO STAN HEAVY BREATHING HAVING A BI PANIC ATTACK LIKE OHHHH GOD OH GOD LITERALLY CANT SPEAK FEELS LIKE HES GONNA THROW UP FB!KYLE RIZZ IS WAY TOO STRONG HELP

anyways...Scene.

this was so funny to me. like obviously it's not a real thing or anything but it was interesting to imagine an alternative world where finger bang is the famous band and kyle is the big celebrity, not stan. i think maybe they're looking for a 5th member and butters joins the band??? also maybe style have some secret red string of fate tying them together that neither of them know abt?

live, laugh, fingerbang.

uncle nina, celebrity x fan enthusiast

#this was so funny to me i don't know what the hell this is #but it made me laugh so there #finger ban(d) supremacy baby!#this kind of thrilled me so u can ask me silly questions about the fake forget fingerband universe if you want #i am a little obsessed with lanky introverted mid west emo music snob music major rural colorado weed farm boy stan #and tiny bubblegum pop boy next door super cheeky flirty it boy golden boy kyle who probably has a lot of demons and #idk i get the feeling he's got some sort of secret addiction or really dark past...something i think fb stan can sense in his aura #do i give fb stan the stan-a-thesia #idk but he can tell that hes putting on some kind of act #something about maybe having wendy become wendyl #and end up in fingerbang just seems dramatic and interesting to me and really explores sexuality and gender identity #fb stan is repressed that whole fanfic by the way holy shit #i guess its enemies to lovers again #i love drama #i feel like butters is butters and not marjorine #but maybe also transitions through my fake fic #why do i kind of like midwest emo stans twang deep country backwoods colorado accent and his awkward stammer #kyles voice is beautiful by the way he also can do ballet <333 #he is very cute stan is sick all the time its so bad #OKAY IM DONE ARE WE OBSESSED #oh god what if i had finger bang order city wok #and stan deliver it oh my god #luv my fake fic #where is the prissy preppy rich boy kyle visits tegridy farms and has a paris hilton simple life moment and gets chased by the farm animals #and doesnt know how to milk cows or shuck corn or anything and stan driving the tractor and pitching bails of hay shirtless #that is the content i want to see

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