#like dude managed to do some serious damage

[hawkssucks]

It’s such a huge deal to me that Keigo went head-to-head against AFO and survived, not only for a long time, but he wasn’t even in prime condition.

[todayisdeadinside]

The “Louis is homophobic” narrative is so outrageously dumb that it feels like it was manufactured in a top-secret lab that specializes in bad takes and Twitter misinformation. Like, are y’all okay? Blink twice if it has rotted your critical thinking skills.

Let’s start with the infamous “I am in fact straight ” tweet thread debacle .Yes. That one. The cursed hieroglyphic carved into the stone tablet of Larrie discourse. Do we know Louis even wrote that? No. Do we know he wasn’t pressured to tweet it? Absolutely not. That thing reads like it was drafted by an intern who smells like Axe body spray and internalized homophobia. And even if he did write it, who among us hasn’t tweeted something mid-spiral, mid-slander, or mid-pr-management-disaster? I once tweeted “I love cardio” after crying on a treadmill run. We’ve all been there.

But here’s the thing: Louis’s actual, observable behavior? Screams “deeply queer coded closeted boy who’s been suppressed for over a decade” let’s start rom the very beginning, in 1D interviews, he straight up REFUSED to entertain the weird, gross questions about male fans and them potentially being attracted to the boys bait questions. He danced around it and looked at the interviewer like they needed therapy. A homophobe doesn’t do that. A person who’s been taught to fear queerness would not dance around a bigoted opportunity served on a silver platter by British tabloid goons.

Now, let’s talk about Only the Brave. That song is so queer-coded it needs to pay rent in West Hollywood. The lyrics sound like they were stolen from a poet who stares longingly at their best friend across a candlelit pub. You think some homophobe just wakes up and writes “it’s a church of burnt romances” over sad,slow guitar strums like that’s a normal Saturday morning? Honey. That song is aching. It’s cinematic. It’s closeted gay in a war film meets Catholic guilt meets forbidden glances across a church pew. Straight men don’t write like that unless they’re trying to land a GLAAD award or overcompensating for owning five pairs of cargo shorts. Let’s also not ignore COACOAC and all along.

AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THE GAY BARS. This man isn’t “accidentally” stumbling into queer spaces like he tripped over a curb and landed on the dance floor at Heaven. He’s comfortable there. He brings his long-term “girlfriend” there for her birthday. He’s not just vibing—he’s thriving. He’s at home. He probably knows the bartender by name. Homophobes do not take their “girlfriend” to one of the most queer friendly known places (Amsterdam) and then write about missing their lover while they’re there 🤨. And then do damage control when people figure out the line HE pointed out to make it clear it was not about his “girlfriend”. Be serious.

Also, let us not forget that this man promoted Polari. Polari. Do antis know how deep cut that is? That’s not “I saw a rainbow once and felt warm.” That’s “I researched underground queer British slang from the 1900s and wore it proudly on my literal chest.” It’s like if a straight dude casually wore a T-shirt that said “Stonewall was a riot” and then went right back to watching football. That’s not a casual choice. That’s a coded statement wrapped in giggles and subtext.

Oh and antis love to erase how Louis helped shape Harry into the fearless, gender-fluid person he is today. “Painted nails make Harry beautiful.” HE SAID THAT. Welllll before it was male fashion. That was during the era of tight skinny jeans and judgment, not Gucci gowns and Vogue covers. He was supporting Harry’s expression when people were still saying “that’s a bit much, innit?” And then there’s the “I’ve never seen you in a dress before mmmmmm” moment. The delivery? Iconic. The eyes? Full of love. The vibe? Boyfriend.

When Harry waved the pride flag for the first time and Louis was literally BEAMING at him like he’d just watched his baby take its first steps? Yeah, that wasn’t the reaction of a man who hates queerness. That was a man who was proud. That was personal. That was “I see you, and I love you” with a Donny accent and a huge smile.

Also, the way antis act like Louis would be totally fine with queer fans in person, but then immediately log onto Twitter like the Wicked Witch of Westboro Baptist Church is so laughably illogical I’m getting a six-pack from the mental gymnastics. Homophobia isn’t platform-dependent! You can’t be like “he’s a proud dad at concerts but a bigot in 280 characters or less.” That’s not how people work. That’s how satire works.

And please—please—tell me how a homophobic man would stand in front of thousands of queer fans waving pride flags and say “I feel so fucking confident, so fucking protected.” He didn’t say “appreciated.” He didn’t say “respected.” He said protected. As in, “I feel safer here than anywhere else.” If you think a homophobe says that sincerely, you need to open a book and then maybe touch grass.

But maybe I’m just a troglodyte, sitting in my little internet cave, clutching my gaydar and refusing to accept twitter takes as gospel. But what I do know is that Louis is about as homophobic as that guy who claps as he watches a drag queen get engaged. He’s queer-coded, emotionally intelligent, and more comfortable in queer environments than most straight girls at bottomless brunch.

Let’s be real. They don’t actually think he’s homophobic. They just don’t see him. They don’t listen to him. They refuse to understand him. And instead of owning up to their bias, they make it weird.

holy shit anon i am kissing you on the mouth this is beautiful and SO correct. also, hilarious. i laughed unreasonably hard at the jokes and puns. whoever you are, please get into a writing field. youll thrive there.

[noorpersona]

Hiii!!!! I cant tell you how much I absolutely love your writings! I was wondering if you could do a part two for managerial duties for Inarizaki!! Maybe where the manager has serious bruising and the team finds out... and theyre genuinely worried! Id be cute if Atsumu would apologize too!! But you dont have to! Hehe, thank you for making my day! I appreciate your writings so much!

YES I LOVE THAT IDEA! And you've made my day with your kind words <33 thank you so much for reading!! Here we go :D --

You had expected some bruising.

What you hadn't expected was for your forearms to turn into a full-blown patchwork of dark purple and deep red, an angry mess of tender skin that ached every time you so much as brushed against something. It had started subtly enough—just a faint soreness the day after the bet. But by the time midweek rolled around, it was impossible to ignore. Even writing with a pen sent sharp pangs up your arms, and carrying the team’s water bottles felt like lifting bricks.

Which is why, in a moment of sheer desperation, you’d dug through your old volleyball gear and fished out your compression sleeves. They weren’t a fix, but they helped stabilize your arms and dull the constant ache, allowing you to function without wincing every time you existed. The compression kept the swelling down, made the bruises feel less noticeable, and at least provided a thin barrier between your damaged skin and the outside world.

You hadn’t really thought much of them beyond that.

Until you pulled off your jacket in the middle of practice and heard the gym fall silent.

The first thing you noticed was that every single pair of eyes had locked onto your arms. It took you a second to realize why—black compression sleeves, pulled taut over your forearms, standing out starkly against your skin.

"Uh…" you started, blinking as the weight of their attention settled on you.

"What’s with the sleeves?" Aran asked first, brows furrowed. "Didn’t know you wore those."

Your brain short-circuited. "Oh. Um. They’re just… comfortable."

"Comfortable?" Osamu repeated skeptically. "Since when do ya need sleeves to be comfortable?"

Suna, who had been lazily leaning against the wall, suddenly pushed off from his spot and started toward you. "They look kinda tight." Without hesitation, he reached out, fingers brushing over the fabric. "Lemme see."

Atsumu, who had been drinking from his water bottle, glanced over and smirked. "Damn, manager, if ya wanted to show off yer arms, ya could’ve just—"

Before he could finish, Osamu smacked the back of his head hard enough to make him stumble. "Read the damn room, ‘Tsumu."

"Ow! What the hell?!" Atsumu grumbled, rubbing the spot Osamu had hit.

The moment Suna applied even the slightest pressure, a sharp, searing pain shot through your arm, and you yelped, whipping your hand to your chest as if you’d been burned. "Shit!" you hissed through clenched teeth, eyes squeezing shut as the sting radiated up your arm.

The reaction was instant.

"What the hell was that?" Osamu frowned, his teasing dropping immediately.

"What’s goin’ on?" Ginjima asked, concern lacing his voice.

Atsumu, still rubbing his head, now had his attention completely on you. "What'd you scream like that for?"

"I-It’s nothing," you stammered, holding your arm protectively. "Just—Suna caught me off guard."

"Bullshit," Suna drawled, eyes narrowing. "Take ‘em off."

"No! I mean, really, it’s not a big deal—"

"Take. Them. Off." Kita’s voice cut through the chatter, calm but final.

You hesitated. His gaze didn’t waver. And you knew, knew, there was no getting out of this. With a resigned sigh, you slowly rolled down the sleeve, flinching slightly as the pressure eased off your skin.

A collective gasp rippled through the team.

"Dude…" Osamu muttered, voice even quieter than usual.

Even Suna, usually unfazed by everything, looked taken aback. "Holy shit."

Ginjima let out a low whistle. "That’s gotta hurt."

The bruises looked worse under the gym lights, the deep purples and reds blending into a mess of tender skin, mottled and swollen in some places. It was bad. You could feel how bad it looked, just from their expressions alone.

Atsumu visibly paled. "That…" He swallowed thickly. "That’s from me?"

Kita exhaled slowly, his posture rigid. "You should have said something earlier."

"It’s fine," you tried. "I asked for it. I knew what I was doing."

"That’s not the point," he said, voice eerily even. "You let it get this bad and didn’t bother telling anyone? How exactly is that taking care of yourself?"

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Because, honestly? He had a point.

"Go home," he ordered, folding his arms. "You’re done for the day. And don’t come back until that heals up."

"What? No, I’m fine—"

"No, you’re not." Aran frowned. "That looks painful as hell."

"I can still help—"

Kita said your name like a father would, the tone alone made it clear there would be no arguing. "Go. Home."

You huffed, crossing your arms—then immediately regretted it when pain flared up again. Scowling, you turned on your heel, grabbing your things and storming toward the clubroom.

The moment you stepped inside and shut the door, you let out a long breath, flopping against the lockers. Your arms throbbed. Maybe they were right. Maybe you should take it easy.

You had just started gathering your things when the door cracked open.

"Oi."

You turned, only to find Atsumu standing awkwardly in the doorway, eyes flickering between you and the floor. He looked… unsettled. Which, for him, was weird.

"Uh. Hey?"

His mouth opened, then closed. He shifted his weight. Fidgeted.

You squinted. "Are you… okay?"

He exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "I—uh. Shit. Look, I didn’t—ya know—mean to…" He gestured vaguely at your arms, as if that explained everything. "I wasn’t tryna actually hurt ya."

You blinked. "Atsumu. I asked for this."

"Yeah, but—" He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Ya look like ya got run over."

You let out a short laugh. "Well, your serves do feel like getting hit by a truck."

Atsumu winced. "Shit."

For a moment, he was quiet. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he muttered, "I’m sorry."

It was quiet. Stiff. A little clumsy.

But genuine.

You raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Never thought I’d hear you apologize."

He scowled. "Don’t make it weird."

You smiled, shaking your head. "It’s fine. Really. I’ll be okay."

Atsumu eyed you, lips pressing into a thin line. "Yeah. Just… don’t be dumb about it next time."

Then, after a brief pause, he exhaled sharply. "You know you could've just told me you played."

You snorted. "Yeah, right. Where’s the fun in that?"

Atsumu groaned. "Yer impossible."

You grinned. "And yet, you all keep me around."

With an exasperated sigh, he turned on his heel, muttering something about stubborn idiots as he left.

You exhaled, shaking your head fondly.

They were all idiots. Loud, nosy, exasperating idiots. But maybe, just maybe, they were your idiots. --

The next morning, you woke up feeling slightly better, though the soreness in your arms still lingered like a dull throb. The bruises were darkening, but at least the swelling had gone down. You figured that maybe—maybe—you could get away with showing up at morning practice. If you just sat on the sidelines, surely Kita wouldn’t make a big deal out of it… right?

You stretched, rolling your shoulders, before heading to the door to grab your shoes. But the moment you opened it, you froze.

Sitting right outside was a neatly arranged little basket. Ice packs, your favorite snacks, a tube of aloe vera gel—and a folded note resting on top.

Your stomach twisted as you picked it up, already knowing exactly who it was from. Unfolding the paper, your eyes skimmed over Kita’s neat handwriting.

Rest. I meant it.

Take care of yourself first. We’ll be fine until you’re back.

P.S. Don’t make me come over there.

You sighed, rubbing a hand down your face before looking back down at the basket. It was thoughtful. It was so Kita. You let out a quiet chuckle, shaking your head before stepping back inside and closing the door behind you.

Guess morning practice would have to wait.

[musubi05]

╰┈➤ R.I.P Dinos

Sam Winchester x sister!reader

Summary: You have to make an active volcano for science class. Sam was more than happy to help!

Warnings: None!

"Jesus all of these assignments for what? I swear this school sucks," you mumbled as you walked down the bunker's grand stairs. Luck was not on your side today but it almost never was for you. Today, specifically, you got tasked with four different projects from four different teachers. Thankfully one of them was a group project.

You threw your bag on the table in the library, accidentally causing a beer bottle to shatter once it hit the ground. Again, luck was not on your side.

Sam ran around the corner with a gun in his hand causing you to put your hands up. "Oh my god it's just you," he breathed out relieved. He uncocked his pistol and put it back in his waistband.

"Ouch," you replied sarcastically as you bent down to pick up the shards of glass. Sam came over and crouched on the floor to help.

"You know what I meaann." Sam rolled his eyes.

You chuckled softly, tossing a handful of glass shards into the trash bin nearby. "Yeah, yeah. Just messing with you," you muttered, brushing your hands off on your jeans.

Sam flopped down into one of the library chairs with a dramatic sigh. "So, what’s with the whole bag slam? You mad at the table or what?" he asked, leaning back and propping his boots up on the edge.

You groaned and pulled out the stack of assignment sheets. "Four projects. Four teachers. All due next Monday," you grumbled, spreading the papers out like a bad poker hand. "One of them’s a group thing, though, so I’m hoping I can trick someone into doing most of the work."

"Dang. Only a week to prepare," Sam’s eyes flicked over the papers disinterestedly, but then he snatched one up. His lips curled into a mischievous grin. "At least one of these seem fun! A volacano! Oooo."

You pursed your lips in a line with a unfazed look. "Are you serious right now?"

Sam shrugged as he read the projects details on the paper. "Yeah, actually. Why don't we do it together? Who's better at exploding things than me?"

"Dean is pretty good at exploding things with that grenade launcher," you smirked when Sam raised an eyebrow.

"He used that thing?! Without me-" Sam took a breath to stop himself. "You know what? It doesn't matter. I'm better with mixing things to explode. I don't need a gun to do it."

"Fine, we can do it together. But we can't make it actually explode. If I get in trouble I'm blaming it on you." You point your finger at him with your warning.

"Okay okay. Minimal property damage." Sam put his hands up like he was swearing to it. "No fun," he mumbled.

"I am fun! Just don't want the attention." Sam hummed in response understanding what you mean.

⛧

You guys got started later that day after getting the supplies and your workspace was a mess. Newspapers covered the entire table, and somehow, you had managed to get some powder in your hair from the mâché. Sam, who has clay all over his hands, was vigorously shaping the volcano’s body with a mixture of paper-mâché and clay.

"Okay, okay, hear me out," Sam said, voice full of excitement. "What if we carve out tiny lava paths down the sides? Like, little rivers of doom?"

You raised an eyebrow as you smoothed another strip of paper-mâché onto the volcano’s surface. "And what happens when the 'lava' doesn’t follow your little paths and just explodes everywhere?"

"Then we know it’s realistic," he shot back with a grin.

You shook your head, but a small smile tugged at your lips. "Fine. But if this thing floods the classroom, I’m telling everyone it was your idea."

Sam dramatically placed a hand over his heart. "I’d expect nothing less."

After another half hour of slathering on layers, the volcano finally looked somewhat presentable—if you ignored the fact that it was still dripping with glue.

Sam leaned back in his chair, hands on his hips. "Dude. We made this."

"Yeah," you said, admiring the lumpy, yet oddly charming volcano. "And somehow, neither of us got hurt in the process."

Sam grinned. "Yet."

⛧

The next day, once the volcano had dried, the real fun began.

You were painting the gray and white paper-mâché into green and brown hills on one side. On the other side, that was already dried, Sam stuck little plastic dinosaurs into the scene. He gave one of them a dramatic shove, sending it tumbling down the side of the volcano. "This one knows what’s coming," he narrated ominously.

You rolled your eyes, but you were trying not to laugh. "Sam, I don't think the dinosaurs even knew the difference between a volcano and a mountain."

"Shhh," he hushed you, gently placing a palm-sized T-Rex on the peak. "This is the Volcano God. He watches over the others."

You looked at him, unimpressed. "You’re ridiculous."

"And yet, you keep me around."

Shaking your head, you grabbed a couple of tiny fake trees and positioned them at the volcano’s base. "Okay, I think this actually looks pretty cool."

Sam clapped his hands together. "Now we just have to make it erupt."

The moment of truth had arrived. The volcano sat on a metal tray, ready for the test eruption. Sam held the baking soda like it was a vial of liquid gold, while you carefully poured the vinegar into a cup.

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. "If this explodes too much—"

"It won’t," Sam interrupted confidently. "I measured this out."

You gave him a skeptical look but still handed him the vinegar. He dramatically lifted the cup over the volcano. "And so, the Volcano God awakens!" he proclaimed before dumping the liquid in.

For a second, nothing happened. Then, with a satisfying hiss, thick red foam bubbled up from the crater and poured down the sides. The tiny T-Rex at the top was quickly swallowed in the fizzing mess.

Sam gasped. "The Volcano God has fallen!"

You burst out laughing as the foam dripped onto the tray. "Dude, this actually looks sick."

Sam grinned proudly. "Told you."

As the eruption slowed to a stop, you sat back, arms crossed. "Okay. We definitely deserve an A for this."

Sam nodded, wiping a bit of foam off his sleeve. "Agreed. And if not, we threaten to make it actually explode next time."

You shot him a look.

"Kidding!" he said quickly, but his smirk said otherwise.

⛧

Today was the day. The day you had to turn in all four of your projects. After a week of nonstop researching, putting things together, and writing. You finally finished and jesus, you were tired.

Unfortunately Sam had to leave after helping you finish with the volcano to go do a hunt. He didn't want to just leave you alone with all this stress of school. Every time you were stressed out or very focused on something you wouldn't take care of yourself that well.

Sometimes you'd forget to eat meals. Sometimes you don't drink enough water and you don't realize until you have a huge headache that won't go away no matter how much water you drink. You also stay up at night making sure everything is perfect. That trait is from Sam himself and you mentally thank him every time this happens. However, you still convinced him to go and that you'd be fine.

You walked into the bunker, down the stairs and into the library as quickly as you could. You were happy that you were done and happy that Sam was coming home soon. You had planned to get some snacks so you could watch a movie in Dean's man cave which was one of your favorite things to do to pass the time.

You set your volcano down on the table and your bag on one of the seats when you heard the bunker's garage door opening.

"Sam?" You called out to see if that was him.

"Yep. I'm back!" He announced as he walked into the main room with his warm smile. You went down the little steps with arms open wide to hug him which he accepted with no hesitation.

"Welcome back," you said softly as your grip slightly tightened around him. He rubbed your shoulder with his thumb in response.

"Thanks, sweetie. So, how was school?" He asked not wanting to get out of the hug just yet.

"Better now since I'm not worrying about any projects," you bluntly spoke with annoyance about those assignments. "Speaking of..." you broke the hug to go back in the library with a curious Sam following you.

"Tada!" You put up jazz hands to show off the volcano. "I brought it back!"

"What grade did you get on it?"Sam asked as he smirked a little as if he already knows.

"Well, she hasn't officially graded it since she's slow at grading things but I may have saw good points on the rubric she was writing on," you returned the smirk to Sam.

"Ayy that's my girl!" He ruffled your hair a little but you didn't protest like you normally did. "But why bring it back? I thought you'd just throw it away."

"So we can make an actual explosion!" You said which warned a big smile from Sam.

"You're the best sister ever."

[mulletpermsicantlookaway]

The Last Cupbearer, Part 2: Devin Decides

For Part 1, click here: https://www.tumblr.com/mulletpermsicantlookaway/778798866864717824/the-last-cupbearer-part-i-chase-tells-a-story

Note: While I don't post explicit pictures or write what I consider explicit sex scenes on my blog, there is one scene in this part that I felt needed an "Adult Content" setting.

Part 2: Devin Decides

Well, bros, it wasn’t easy, but I managed to track down Devin at some chess team meeting or something after school, which was just breaking up. Who knew the nerds practiced longer than we did? Anyway, the two of us managed to drag him over to Steve’s place – and I mean that literally, because Devin wasn’t exactly co-operative. Jeremy mostly just carried him. We told him we were trying to help, but he thought we were trying to prank him or something worse. He was even more terrified when we got to Steve’s place and found himself in the same room with James and Steve.

James looked at the three of us as if he had a bad taste in his mouth: “I’m assuming this one’s Devin, bros?” James queried. “Any particular reason why you’re manhandling the nerd?”

“Sorry, bro,” I said, “but it was the only way we could get him over here. He thinks we’re going to do something to him.”

James rolled his eyes. “Set him down on Steve’s bed, I guess,” he said. “Devin, for fuck’s sake, don’t try my patience. I’ve got issues with nerds, and I’m not going to bother telling you why right now. You wanted to find out about Ben, right? So have some balls, dude, and don’t act like a scared rabbit. No one here wants to hurt you. Bros, let him go. If he wants to leave, he can leave.”

“No locker here to stuff me into this time, eh, James?” I had to give Devin credit; saying that to James took some nerve.

“Whoa, dude, did I shut you in your locker?” James smirked. “I don’t remember doing that, honestly, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. If you were a jock, you’d understand; sometimes the aggression just gets out of control. Now when I feel that coming on, I go run, or lift weights or something, so I don’t get myself in trouble. I know it’s not much of an apology, but I am sorry, dude. Really.”

Devin didn’t answer. He was staring at Steve’s chess set, and then at Steve. “Steve? Steve O’Connor? Is that you?”

“’Sup, Dev?” said Steve. “Hey, long time no see, dude.” Steve tried to dap Devin up, but Devin just sat there looking as if he’d seen a ghost. Steve continued, “Still hanging out with the chess nerds, eh, Dev?”

“Well, yeah, Steve. The team needed me, especially after you left. But what the hell happened to you? You stopped coming all of a sudden and I never saw you again, and – well, I guess now I know what happened to you. You’re a jock now. I didn’t recognize you. I’m sorry. And the name’s Devin.”

“Yeah, I’m a jock now – Dev,” smirked Steve. “Speaking of which, we need to talk about Ben. Jimbo has something to tell you.”

“Jimbo?” Devin asked.

Steve chuckled. “James. No one calls him Jimbo but me, little dude. Boyfriends have that privilege.”

“And no one had better call me that but you, Steve-o,” said James. “Or I’ll do him some serious damage.”

Devin swallowed audibly. “You’re James’s boyfriend? I guess you don’t need to worry about getting picked on for being gay, do you?” Then he turned back to James and said, “Please, James, can you do something to help Ben?  He’s my best friend. I can’t lose him. Can you please just tell your friends to leave him alone?”

James sighed. “Devin, it’s not up to us. None of us here knew anything about it. And, for what it’s worth, I wish we could help. Devin, look at me.” He paused until Devin had looked him in the face. “It’s too late for Ben. It was too late before you even tried to talk to Jeremy or Chase. I’m sorry. There’s nothing you can do now. He’s going to be a jock. Really soon. He’ll be just like Steve and Chase and Jeremy and me. And when he’s a jock, he’s not going to want to have anything to do with any nerds. Even you. It’s just the way it is. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you’re going to have to give him up.”

“Please, no, you’ve gotta help me! You can’t know what it feels like to lose your best friend like this. What am I supposed to do?”

“Devin,” James said slowly, “you probably won’t believe this, but I do know exactly what it feels like to lose your best friend like this. That’s why I wanted to tell you the truth. The truth can hurt, Devin, but it’s better to know; at least, I think so.”

“Then I was right. The jocks put him on their list and got him, just like the others.”

“And once a guy starts changing,” James said, “there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Give it up, Devin. You’re going to have to let Ben go.”

Devin stood suddenly up from the bed, went over to where James was standing, and grabbed James in a death grip bear hug. He started sobbing with his faced pressed into James’s chest. James looked super uncomfortable, but he didn’t pry Devin off, even though he probably outweighed Devin by something like eighty pounds. “Shh, little dude,” he said, patting Devin on the back. “It’ll be all right. Eventually.”

“Then there’s nothing you can do?” Devin asked after a few minutes. “What exactly did they do to him?”

“Dude, I really do not like talking about this stuff for a lot of good reasons, but this is one of those times when we all need to know the truth. The coaches have a – well, I’ll call it a device – that they put on a guy to change him into a jock. Someone put one of those on Ben a couple of days ago. There’s no way to get it off once it’s on, not until the coaches want it off.”

“Is that what happened to Steve, too?”

James looked particularly grim at that question. “Yeah,” James said finally, “that’s what happened to Steve – and to my best friend Tyler. And to me, too. You knew Steve-o before? I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah,” said Steve, “Dev and I were on the chess team together, although I don’t remember much about it now.”

“It gets harder and harder to remember every day, doesn’t it?” said James. “I don’t know why I still remember as much as I do. I don’t really want to anymore. Devin, you have a choice to make. And it’s the same choice I had to make when my best friend was taken. You can let Ben go and get on with your life. That’d be the smart choice.”

Suddenly Devin looked up at James and said, “Or, if I want to stay friends with Ben, I’ll have to become a jock, too? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

“Sharp dude, aren’t you?” James said. “If you’re going to make that choice, I want you to be able to make it with your eyes open. Think very hard before you make it, Devin. Try to remember what Steve was like before, and then look at him now. Look at me. Nothing fucking scared me more than becoming a big brute with a cocky smile. What do you see now? Take a good look at Jeremy and Chase. And get a good whiff of the locker room smell in this room. Is this really what you want, dude? It needs to be your choice.”

As Devin considered, I looked at my bros, trying to see them through Devin’s eyes. Steve was tall, about six foot three, with dark blond hair a little longer than most of the bros, especially on top. With a face handsome enough to be a male model, well-built and muscular but not overly developed, everyone in the cheer squad drooled over him, female and male. But his heart belonged to his boyfriend, and with a boyfriend like James, anyone who found Steve attractive wisely kept that thought private.

James stood about 5’ 10”, so not short or very tall. But bro was big. He had a bulky, heavily muscled build, and not many guys on the football team were much bigger. As impressive as his thick neck and massive upper body were, his lower body was even more developed. His thighs and glutes were huge enough that he walked with a pronounced swagger, yet despite all that bulk he was fast on the field. His severely short buzz cut, heavy dark eyebrows, and strong, masculine features gave him a “Don’t mess with me” look. He bore an uncanny resemblance to Derek, one of the senior football jocks, as if he were Derek’s younger, dark-haired brother. For myself, I thought James was pretty hot, but you wouldn’t call him pretty.

Then there was my Jeremy. Tall. Taller than Steve, even. Medium brown hair cut very short, especially on the sides and back. Plenty of muscle, but he managed to look gangly, thanks to his height. Big round eyes, slightly pouty lips, and kind of dopey looking, which I found absolutely adorable. I suppose he wasn’t handsome in the conventional sense, but to me he was so fucking cute!

As for me, what can I say? A bit shorter than James, but not much. I was heavier built than Steve or Jeremy, but not as bulky as James. Thick red hair cut short on the sides and back and spiked up on top. Fuzzy red chinstrap beard. Huge ears and a goofy-looking smile. Jeremy tells me I’m hot. I think I look like a jocked-out leprechaun. I suppose I’m cute in my way, but I’m under no illusion that I’m a pretty dude like Steve.

Devin’s sobbing brought me back to moment: “Ben’s going to be like you guys, isn’t he? So what choice do I really have?”

“Sometimes our choices are limited,” James agreed. “Are you in love with Ben? Are you gay? Is he?”

“I don’t know,” said Devin. “I might be. He might be. I don’t know if he loves me or not. I just know I don’t want to desert him.”

“Dev, dude,” said Steve, “you wouldn’t be deserting him, he’d be deserting you.”

“I don’t care,” Devin said. “I just want to be able to stay his friend.”

“Listen, little dude,” said James. “There are a couple more things you should know before you decide. First, if the four of us help you, you might end up gay, assuming you aren’t already. Second, you could lose some brain power. It’s hard to know, because no two guys seem to turn out the same.”

“Chase seems pretty happy,” Devin countered.

“Dude!” I said, but James cut me off before I could continue.

“Chase is very happy,” James agreed, “but don’t be fooled. Chase has plenty of brains. He just doesn’t like people to know he’s a smart jock.”

“Seriously?” both Jeremy and Steve said simultaneously. James laughed.

“I’m surprised he fooled you, Steve-o,” said James. “Fooling Jeremy now; that’s easier.”

Steve said, “Honestly, Chase, if it were anyone but you, bro, I’d suspect you were trying to move in on my boyfriend. But why the fuck do you spend all this time having Jimbo tutor you if you can do your own work?”

“Well,” I said, “it’s less, like, intimidating, you know, if people think I’m a little dense. Besides, bro, I like spending time with James. He’s an interesting dude; I learn a lot from him. I do. And I like watching the two of you being boyfriends together. Helps me learn how to deal with this big lug over here,” I said, indicating Jeremy.

Jeremy said, “Look, bros, I knew Chase was messing with James a bit pretending he didn’t get stuff, but I figured it would work itself out. And I don’t know why you bros all think I’m so dumb. Fuck you!”

James’s smirk widened into a full-on jock’s shit-eating grin: “Jeremy, bro, you’re not really all that dumb, though I’d love to see an IQ test for you from before and after. But you’ve gotta admit you’re clueless. I mean, you turned into a jock without even noticing – until I did you the huge favor of pointing it out. But Chase is a special guy, as I think you know. Everyone likes him, even nerds, and he’s got a gift for getting people. He’s probably told you the real reason for our tutoring sessions: it wasn’t to help him; it was to help me. I needed to teach. Anyway, enough about that, bros, we’re getting off the subject. The nerd here needs our help. And, as much as I don’t like nerds, I’ve got reasons of my own for trying to be nice to this one.” Turning to Devin, he said, “So, little dude, what’ll it be? Knowing the risks, do you want to become one of us? You don’t have to answer right now. Think it over.”

“Geez, guys, I’m in the room; quit calling me ‘the nerd’. The name’s Devin. Sheesh!” Devin paused. “I don’t need to think about it; I already know what I feel. I’m not deserting Ben, so I’ll do whatever you want. Make me a jock, okay! Are you going to put one of those things you were talking about on me?”

“I considered it,” James said. “But only the coaches have access to them, and we don’t know how many of them are left. We could ask, but what if they said No? Meanwhile, your buddy Ben is starting to turn, and soon he’ll start showing, so we don’t have time to wait for the coaches to decide about you. There’s another way. And that brings us to the reason I asked Jeremy and Chase to be here tonight. See, both these bros are special, because they turned without ever having to wear one of those things.”

“How?” Devin asked.

“Well,” James grinned, “Unbeknownst to us – you’re a nerd, you know what that word means, right? Anyway, unbeknownst to us, Steve and I were contagious to non-jocks – under the right circumstances. Jeremy caught it from us, and then Chase caught it from him. So, we ought to be able to infect you with jock, if you follow me, the same way they were.”

“And again, how?”

“I’m getting there. I don’t think you’re going to like my answer,” said James, “but just remember that you came to us for help. First, we’re going to need to make you a – well, let’s just call it a protein shake. Jeremy, Chase, could you take this paper cup, bros, and then go into Steve’s bathroom and see what you can do to fill it?”

Jeremy and I looked at each other, realizing what James wanted us to do. It was super awkward, but we went into Steve’s bathroom and deposited our, uh, samples in the cup. Then we gave the cup back to James. “Okay,” he said, “now it’s my turn with Steve. Give us a few minutes, bros.” Devin was turning pale as a ghost, and I didn’t blame him. When James and Steve came out of the bathroom, the little cup was more than halfway full. “Now, little dude, it’s time to take your medicine. And try not to think too much about what it is.”

“Seriously,” Devin said. “You expect me to swallow that? That is so fucking gross! Are you just messing with me, or will it actually work?”

“We’re not messing with you. I figured this would be less awkward for you – and us – than trying to make out. It should work, but it might not be obvious right away. Rome wasn’t built in a day, dude, but getting a sample from all four of us should help speed the process along. Now drink it down. You’re the one who wanted to be a jock, remember?”

Devin shuddered. “You know very well that I don’t really want to be a jock, but all I’m going to say now is that Ben owes me – big time. You’re right: I did ask you to help me. And I said I’d do whatever you wanted. I should thank you for helping me, and I suppose the faster I do this the faster it’ll be over with.” That said, he drained the cup and did his best to swallow the – protein shake – right down. He managed, barely. “I can’t believe I just did that,” he sputtered. “I think I’m gonna throw up. Whoa! That made me super dizzy.”

Devin’s eyes rolled back in his head and he fainted. Steve caught him and braced him on the bed before he toppled to the floor. “How are you feeling, little bro?” Steve asked when Devin’s eyes popped open again.

“Let me lie down for a bit. Shit, I feel weird!” We gave him another few minutes. Finally, he sat up on the bed looking pale and sweaty. My mom would have described him as green around the gills.

“How do you feel now, Dev?” Steve asked.

“Dizzy, clammy, and sweaty. It feels like that horrible stuff’s caught in my throat, too, but it’s probably just my imagination.” He tried to clear his throat a few times. The next time he spoke, his voice started to squeak and become hoarse.

“I think you bros might have almost killed me,” he said. “I don’t feel great, but I think I could stand up now.”

“I think it worked, little bro,” James said. “What do you think, bros? Do you feel it yet? I do.”

Steve, Jeremy, and I nodded. “Yeah, I think I know what you’re talking about. I feel like Dev and I have something in common now.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy agreed. “Like how I suddenly felt a connection with Ben in class. I didn’t know what it meant.”

“It’s because he’s starting to become a bro now,” James said. “That’s how Steve I and noticed you and Chase when you changed.”

“What next?” asked Jeremy, “have him wear one of our jockstraps?”

“Already thought of that, since it worked so well for you” said James, handing Devin a large jockstrap and a small pair of briefs. “Go into Steve’s bathroom and put this on. If you’re wearing boxers, you’ll probably have to hold the strap in place with the briefs for now. Make sure the jockstrap material’s touching your junk, okay? And keep wearing it for, like, a week, and we’ll see. And, for the love of Ben, don’t wash it! Okay, little bro?”

“Bros, I mean guys, this is so gross,” Devin squeaked. “I’m going to stink so bad. Are you serious?”

“No pain, no gain, little bro,” said James. “Remember, you asked us.”

Devin went into Steve’s bathroom, and when he came out, he was walking a little awkwardly as he adjusted to the extra material in his crotch.

“How are you doing now, little bro?” James asked.

“I feel like death warmed over, dude, and that jockstrap thing feels super strange. It’s all warm and tingly.”

“Good,” said James, “I think we’ve done everything we can for tonight. Now it just takes time.”

“Maybe,” I said, “Dev and Steve should play a game of chess for old times’ sake.”

“Fuck, bro,” said Steve. “I don’t know why you keep wanting me to do nerd shit like chess. But I’ll play a game if Dev wants to. It’s not like it’s going to kill me.”

“It’d be fun to see a real chess game,” I said. “I’ve played Steve before, Devin, but I stink at chess.”

“Okay,” Devin said. “I’ll try, if I don’t pass out first.”

Bros, I’ve got to tell you that Devin played a lot better than I did. It was close, but Steve still beat him in the end. Devin whispered, “You’re still the best, Steve. Maybe I would have done a little better if I hadn’t felt so dizzy – and fuck, what’s wrong with my voice – but you still would have beaten me.”

“Thanks, Dev. It feels weird; I’ve got to be honest, but I still can play.”

“My name’s Devin.”

“For now,” smirked James, “but I think your bros will call you Dev.”

Devin sighed. Then he asked, “So, what do I do now?”

“Well,” said James, “For now, I think we’d better take you home so you can sleep it off. You can shower whenever you want, but don’t wash that jockstrap. You’ll probably start noticing some changes soon, kind of like a second round of puberty. Your junk will get bigger, probably starting with your balls. You’ll start getting hairier. And you’ll notice a locker room odor coming off you. Your voice might drop. And – you’ve been warned – you’ll get horny as hell. And aggressive. Speaking of aggressive, if you feel like stuffing a freshman into a locker, do something physical, like what I said before. It helps. Just so you know.”

“Fuck,” Devin sighed again. “What have I gotten myself into? But I can make it home on my own,” he squeaked.

“Maybe,” James countered, “but we’d better make sure you don’t faint again. Lesson number one: your bros will always have your back. Remember that! Besides, little bro, you need to learn to move with the herd if you’re going to be a jock, got it? End of discussion. We’ll take you home. I’ve been sitting around long enough, anyway. Steve-o, grab that basketball. Maybe we can shoot a couple of baskets on the way.”

“How long,” croaked Devin, “until I’m like you guys?”

“It varies. A week, maybe two or three. But the idea behind giving you a dose of all four of us was to get you caught up with Ben, little bro. And once you’re far enough along physically, you’ll talk to the coaches and watch your training video,” James smirked.

“Training video?” Devin squeaked. “Sounds boring.”

“Trust me, dude, you’ll really enjoy it. You probably won’t remember much of it, but you’ll enjoy it a lot. It’s a life-changing experience, believe me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Little bro, that one you’ll have to find out for yourself.”

To be continued

https://www.tumblr.com/mulletpermsicantlookaway/778980077334593536/the-last-cupbearer-part-3-james-has-a-flashback

[todoroklee]

Just laugh dammit!

Ler!bakugo and lee!todoroki

Summary: todoroki never laughs or even smiles and bakugo what's to know why, and try to make him laugh himself.

SFW, NSFW DNI

It was a normal day in the UA dorms, izuku and iida watching TV in the common room, some of the girls were at the pool and todoroki was sat in his room doing homework.

It wasn't until later when things started to take a turn for todoroki, at around 7pm he went down to the common room to join deku and iida watching TV. They were watching some comedy show and laughing there asses off, he sat down next to them and just watched.

"How do you guys find this funny?" He questioned genuinely.

"Uhum I dohont know I juhust doho?" Deku answered, still goggling.

Todoroki shrugged and continued watching, as iida and izuku continued laughing like maniacs bakugo walked out of his room to see what all the commotion was.

"What the hell are speedy and the nerd laughing about?!"

"Just some show, find out for yourself"

"Don't gotta be so rude iceyhot!" Bakugo groaned, but he did take a look at what they were watching and if he was being honest it was hilarious. A few of the moments got him giggling and that says something, but why wasn't iceyhot laughing or even smiling?

Before he could ask, todoroki was gone. Bakugo assumed he was in his dorm so he made his way over there.

Todoroki heard a bang on the door, as he got up to grab it the door had been booted open. He sighed.

"Bakugo."

"Icyhot"

"What do you want?"

"Just a question" he said with a smirk.

"What?"

"Why weren't you laughing or even smiling at the show tenya and the nerd were watching in there?"

"It just wasn't funny," he shrugged as if it was nothing, but bakugo wasn't done.

"Why don't you laugh, or even smile- yknow I've never seen you smile!"

"Mabye you don't deserve to, also did you just interrupt yo-"

"What do you mean I don't deserve t-"

"Don't interrupt me-"

"Like hell I'll listen to you!"

"Just shut up"

"What did you say?"

"You heard me"

'Oh, he is in for it now,' bakugo thought to himself as he charged towards the half n half gentleman. Todoroki landed on the bed with bakugo straddling his thighs.

"Dude, what the hell?!"

"Oh shut up" bakugo growled back as he tried to hit todoroki but he instead managed to brush his hand against the hot and cold heros side exerting a squeak from the older.

"No fucking way"

"Baku-"

"THE TODOROKI IS TICKLISH?!"

"Bakug-"

"HA HA, This is CRAZY!"

"Bakugo!"

"What?!"

"Don't say a wo-"

"What you gonna do? Your at my mercy"

"What are you gonna do hm ?"

"Simple, this!" With that bakugo started digging roughly into todorokis sides, causing the older to somewhat lurch forward.

He shoved a hand over his mouth as he tried to fight back bakugo but he was weaker due to the tickles.

"Bak- bakugo!"

"Yeah icyhot!?" He wiggled his fingers into todoroki's tummy hoping to mabye get him weak enough to pin his hands.

The hot n cold hero squeaked as he pushed himself backwards to try to get away from the tickly fingers of his explosive friend, this just gave bakugo the perfect opportunity to jump into action.

Bakugo grabbed one of his hands and kept it above his head whilst keeping up with the lighter tickles on his belly.

"Cmon icy-spicy show me that smile!"

Bakugo used his free hand to pull at shoto's arm but it wouldn't budge from his mouth.

"Cmon you icyhot bastard!" He wasn't doing much damage to his strength as he was clearly shown so he thought of the next logical option!

Bakugo dug three fingers into the hot n cold boys hollows, vibrating his fingers as he did so causing shoto to push his arms down to his sides showing off his smile.

Bakugo took one look and was caught, wow. He quickly was pulled out of this little moment when he heard a giggle slip from none other than shoto himself.

"No way! I didn't think such a serious guy could ever giggle! Awh that's adorable" bakugo teased relentlessly as he watched shoto try to hide his face.

"Nuh uh uh~" he fluttered his fingers against the now open side of his neck, causing todoroki to straighten his head.

"Stohop bahakugoho!-"

"Hmm I don't think so, your too adorable like this!"

"I'm nohot adohorable!"

"Oh yes you are~"

He wiggled his fingers against the hot n cold heroes tummy, "cmon icyhot, give me a laugh!"

Todoroki squealed, sucking his stomach in once again.

"Bahakuhogo! Stohop ihit"

"Oh no, I can't stop now!"

He began spidering his fingers all over the half n half heroes tummy, digging in and vibrating his fingers above his navel.

"ShiHIHIT BAHAUGOHO!"

"Oh? Swearing now? Watch your language icyhot~"

"STOHOP THIHIS!"

"So you don't like spiders huh, well what about raspberries?"

Bakugo smirked as he saw todorokis eyes widened, he stopped the tickles for a minute.

"Wahait bahakuho- plehease"

"Please...tickle you more?"

As he said that he began rolling up shoto's t-shirt, running his fingers over the bare skin.

"Noho bahakugoho!"

"Wow, your very ticklish icyhot~ is it something to do with your quirk or are you just that cute and sensitive all by yourself?"

"Shuhut uhup!"

"What, don't you like the word tickle? Well your gonna hate this then"

As he said that he shot his face down to plant raspberries all along the icyhot heroes tummy.

"Does this tickle shoto?"

He mumbled, sending tickly vibrations more throughout his stomach.

"SHUHUT UHUP BAHAKUGOHO!" He pushed bakugos head lightly as he threw his head back with loud, squeaky cackles.

"Your laugh is adorable icyhot, mabye I should do this more often?" He said teasingly, smirking as he lifted his head. Dipping a finger into shotos belly button and wiggling a finger.

"ShiHIHIT STOHOP!"

"But your so adorable~"

He put his mouth towards shoto's ear, "tktktktk~ does it tickle shoto, huh?"

"STOHOP TEHEASING, IHI CAHANT!"

After a few more seconds he stopped, getting off the half n half hero and sitting back on his bed.

Todoroki curled in on himself and was left in a pile of giggles, bakugo awwed internally as he looked towards shoto with a smile.

Shoto took a deep breathe and sat up next to bakugo.

"Thank you for that..." He said softly

"Don't get used to it icyhot," he said trying to sound angry as usual but failing, "Your welcome." He muttered under his breathe.

"But you know bakugo, I'm quite a big fan of revenge..." he turned towards bakugo with a devious smirk.

"Wait icyhot, you don't need to-" But he was cut off as shoto began clawing at his ribs.

"ShIHIHIT ICYHOHOT!"

Todoroki smiled, mabye smiling wasn't such a bad thing after all...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AU: I haven't written in ages so apologies if it's bad, :)

[polyhexian]

Just saw your recent Darius posts and you've managed to put into words exactly how I feel about him. There is clear evidence of his heel turn in canon, and by the end of the series it is very apparent just how much he cares about Hunter. But before that he was Not Nice, he actively contriubuted to the heavy isolation that Hunter was under. You already described why the head chop scene was not as cute as it appeared at face value, but giving him a scroll and telling him to make connectins outside the castle was So Dangerous. He told a kid who was being violently abused to blatantly disgregard his abusers rules.

To be clear I do like Darius' character, he's screwed up badly and made phenominally bad choices, but so did Lilith, so did Gwen. Owl house is good about showing characters making bad mistakes and showing the steps they made to come back from them. With Darius I was looking forward to seeing the development of his and Hunter's bond, to show how damaging Darius' prior bevatior was and showing Darius working hard to make up for it. But then the show just kind of...didn't.

Again, I like Darius' character a lot, but I feel a ball was dropped when it came to writing his and Hunter's relationship.

I agree. Like I know I come across as a hate but I've written! Hundreds of thousands of words! At this point! About Darius and Darius self driven redemption and absolution! I am deeply invested in him! I write Lilith with similar baggage! And I write a WILDLY specific Raine! I'm not a hater. I love Darius. I just also love him knowing his a mean piece of shit who has some extremely serious flaws and actions he needs to apologize and make up for.

Darius and hunters relationship is such an odd one. Most major issues like this are because of season 3 getting shortened, like hunter didn't get his arc finished. Like he basically WAS done, he escaped and we were seeing him bloom away from that control. But then they decided to have the whole possession thing which ITSELF I think was fine and even like a sick ass scene. But also. That starts an entirely new era in his arc. Escaping his abuser did not end his trauma; abusers often reenter your life, or even when dead that trauma can well up within you and poison you later. And I like flapjacks death for FLAPJACKS character arc. But for hunter at that point it becomes messy because. That's the end of that arc basically. They try to... Do something? In for the future with Willow but. That's nothing tbh. We finish with hunter still retraumatized and paranoid and grieving with no... Like... Actually processing it? No end to that arc. So as much as I actually DO like the possession scene- if they couldnt finish that plotline, I don't think they should have started it.

But Darius and hunter??? That's season 2. And Darius was always going to be a puppet until the collector was turned and likely Belos defeated even with a full season. So even with that full season we probably wouldn't have had any more Darius and hunter interactions at all. Like again, the timeline immediately after labyrinth runners with hunter is a little unclear, and I think he was staying with Darius but ????? Who knows dude they don't even say. So like. Season 2 they had all the time they needed to plan out the arc of that relationship and ALSO it was never going to have any more meaningful screentime, so. Uh. Uh? The hell was that

[hcgossips]

Quicksand

As we start discussing possibilities that more and more seem plausible and destroy their narratives, they again, come up with fake registers and certificates from fake fan pages fed by their team as a diversion. They tried with a marriage contract, with a family tree. Now, they come up with a baby certificate. Isn’t manipulating and faking documents a crime?

Fake pages are fed and kept to mislead and occasionally, bring fake information to deviate attention and manipulate people. Once in a while, they come up with something. How did Cavill get involved with these people? Do you really believe Cavill married and had a kid with a sc*m? Well, of course, that’s possible. But not likely. If he really had a serious relationship with this woman and a baby, he wouldn’t expose that publicly as a circus the way it has been done.

There are many holes in that plot contradicting their narratives. But, of course it is possible that they could have met, fallen in love (weird) and married, before deciding to introduce the  subject with a PR prank (professional suicide). Crazy, childish, risky (to his image), possible, but unlikely. What is more likely, is that this PR wasn’t going to take that long and they continued with the plot as damage control (a tantrum), because of the photo in which she was gladly on her knees as a pro. But, it shouldn’t have taken long, either.

But, Cavill is a dude and allowed himself to be someone’s muppet. Why? He was into tantrum, deceptively convinced it would give this circus an end. But, all this circus managed to do was more damage. I doubt he’s pleased with this mummery, after realizing what it has been doing to him. But, now, he’s stuck and buried in too many lies to go back. And, the more they push this forward, more he gets buried, more he destroys himself and jeopardizes his image.

Whoever planned, managed this circus, knew him and how to trap him. They knew how easy it is to convince him, to use him as a muppet. And, that is what he became. A muppet trying to save his PR stunt’s image. After her rep was exposed, it became impossible to settle the break up (end of this PR contract), because it would seem to many, that Cavill was ending it, because of that, and this break up could be understood as a support to the hostility against her, what would probably double.

She would wildly be destroyed. So, the solution was to make him supportive to her. How? As a future husband and father of her kid to give her a respectful image. But, he's not the type. It would also serve as a plot to reinforce his straight manhood image against rumours of homosexuality and to avoid the bad publicity of this PR stunt. That’s how Hollywood deals with those matters. They fake marriages.

The problem is that their damage control did more damaging than controlling, ended up having the opposite result, because of the unethical, immoral, unscrupulous and unprofessional strategies used in this plot. It went way far from just practicing a tantrum against fans. It became a self-destructive campaign for both Cavill and Viscuso. They are both being muppets and clowns, pathetic figures of a freaking circus.

There’s no way an experienced manager like Garcia would be that mistaken. This wasn’t a mistake! This was an intentional blow, a strike against him and for a reason. He was always an actor who avoided being involved in scandals. He was always very, very careful with his image. And, all of a sudden, this circus? There’s definitely, something wrong they are hiding from the public.

I keep having this impression someone, for some reason, got pissed with him and decided  for a punishment or revenge. Because, no serious actor puts himself in this shitty situation if not for a serious reason. This could have started as an innocent PR stunt, but it definitely became something else after the photo of Viscuso proudly on her knees and this unethical and immoral damage control.

She’s the only one with the power to clarify this shitty plot and announce all the truth about it. But, then, she will have to be humble to admit what she really is and who were her partners in this crime. She won't, because she's a coward and she would be totally destroyed, much more than now. I really doubt Cavill would want anything serious with this pro, rather than a few night stands. She’s not the type a man respects, but a type he screws. It’s not sexism. It’s just how the real world is.

[durge-marzio]

BG3 RAMBLES #1

Starts with Gale epilogue commentary and quickly divulges into how feral of a man he is below the cut

I absolutely love how Gale becomes a teacher like he's implied he's always dreamed of. But let me just go off about what happens if you choose to marry him but not to live in Waterdeep.

He's a smooth talker as always, but his word choice implies he's been having the time of his life, like a social dog set loose in a dog park/doggy daycare kind of time of his life.

I haven't seen all the dialogue options yet, but I love how excited he is to loot books during adventures. Imagine going dungeon crawling, getting a kick from finding ancient tomes to trashy novels. Actually, me too my dude. He mentions that he has collected enough literature to fill a dozen libraries? Hello?! The Tav 100% got him a Bag of Holding at some point, maybe even as a wedding gift.

I know every playthrough with Gale is different, but everything I've gathered about him amplified by my own gameplay just makes him the ultimate orange cat of a man. I swear this man gets zoomies, but its never obvious until you're standing there, eyes wide open and jaw dropped, because he did something completely feral that you did not forsee.

When he said, "I always wondered what it would feel like to be nervous", I initially thought, "Oh, Gale, beanie baby man. You have been nervous though??? Everyone has at some point?". But then I think about all the things he has said and done and just wonder... "Okay, maybe he was completely dead serious about that".

Like for example, immediately after he says he's nervous and asks for advice on what to say to Mystra, of course Marcio tells him to not give away anything. We need more information right? That and Marcio wants to cuss her out, but he knows that might get Gale in trouble, but he also doesn't want Gale to apologize to Mystra, and he doesn't want Gale to become a god, so yah know.

Not two seconds in after being terrified of this lady, he finds out about the crown's abilities and says the equivalent of, "ha ha, you're afraid of me >:)" to the goddess who is like 5 inches away from his face. EXCUSE ME? SIR? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? GALE?!?! GALE!!!

Or how about when Raphael wants to make that deal, giving Raphael the crown and all that. Me thinking, "Oh, I wonder what Gale is thinking. Giving the crown to Raphael would sentence Gale to death, so—" and then Gale immediately going into attack dog mode yelling over Marcio's shoulder that Raphael is a bitch who shouldn't be given anything.

Oh! And don't forget! Lorroakan insulting Gale as being Mystra's lapdog, only for Gale to smile and calmly brag he's about to kick Mystra's ass and maybe take her domain. Gale. Sweet, sweet Gale. What the fuck are you doing?

Thank you, Gale. I never need to wonder what your opinion is.

His AI also feral (for me at least):

He's constantly climbing on top of things.

He's the only one who has managed to fall off of something and take fall damage. No idea how though. He was off screen. I just heard a scream and then saw he took 4 damage.

When he's blinded, he immediately takes out his staff like he's about to hit someone with it. No, not to feel around so he can move safely. He holds it like a baseball bat and aggressively wobbles it around ready to strike. SIR! PLEASE!

He can't spot a trap to save his life and always walks into the bombs.

Can't pass any of his history checks with a 17 in intelligence, but his boyfriend with a 9 can.

I'm sure there is more, but I only got 3 hours of sleep and wrote this after an paper for ethics. I'm losing my mind.

[purpleajisai]

Drop your Madara headcannons 🧠 💣

Hi! This is going to be quite a long list. Didn't add every single hc because I'm planning on writing a little fanfic and don't want to spoil some details to you hehe. Anyways, hope you enjoy! Some of these are very oddly specific, this man occupies at least half my brain if not more.

🔥 misc!

* He drinks his tea boiling hot. Burning your tongue? Never heard of it

* Is actually good at cooking and makes the most out of any ingredient available. Growing up in war, he knows how to make meals out of anything.

* Has a pillow to cuddle in bed! The dude is lonely.

* Very elegant and expensive hanko to stamp his documents. A clan leader needs to be fancy sometimes!

* Neat freak. Never has his house messy or his clothes out of place. Even his hair strands are calculated.

* Is actually able to mend/sew his clothes very well if some stitches are damaged during training.

* Sleeps a maximum of 6 hours a day, minimum of 30 minutes. The amount of sleep he gets is like playing a roulette (ever seen the eyebags? yeah)

* Speaking about the eyebags. His eyebags are both sunken and protruding (based on my personal experience of being sleep deprived+stressed) the lower eyelid pops out a little and the dark circles extend more.

* The man is physically unable to go out in social settings during the day. Only has social battery for the night. If he has to do some sort of diplomatic celebration with other clan leaders or kage during the day, he’ll leave the talking to someone better at social gatherings like Hashirama. 

* Has houseplants both for decoration and for cooking. We’re talking pretty succulents and mint plants or peach trees.

* The type of guy to wake up and immediately jump out of bed. Things have to be done everyday and he doesn’t trust people to do things the way he likes. 

🎀 appearance!

* Shaves to perfection every single morning, no excuses. Takes a little razor to missions, hates the feeling of facial hair growing. Trims his eyebrows as well. The Sharingan needs a pretty frame, right?

* The gloves have 2 purposes: protecting his hands from getting calluses or any form of damage due to the metal handle of the gunbai, kusarigama, etc and to hide burn scars (courtesy of @madaraservingcunt go follow her!)

* Continuing with the gloves, they’re made out of leather or thick cotton. Maybe has several sets of them for different activities.

* Smells like a mix of wood (cedar or pine), soot/ash, aloe and maybe lavender or wild daisy.

* Skincare and haircare? He’s VERY serious about these. Aloe vera facial masks for soothing the itchiness of constant katonjutsu, washes face with caution, rice water to keep his hair shiny, protective hairstyles to not damage the long hair strands, bamboo hairbrush to retain the natural oils, etc.

* Either has thick straight hair or textured and slightly wavy hair, definitely cut in layers. The wavy hair would make more sense as it poofs up when dry but looks rather straight when wet, taking into account the scenes of the battle in the Valley of the End (thank you Indra for the wavy hair and gorgeous mane genetics). Definitely loves his hair, fav part about himself.

* The bandages above his ankles are to keep the pants in place because his calves are thin and not very muscular, a small insecurity when he was a teen.

* Speaking of the terrible teens, he got grumpy whenever he got a breakout, zit, etc.

* Has mixed/dry, sensible skin. Dealt with painful and itchy sores due to lack of skin hydration while in war.

* Is a bit ashamed of his height and body proportions (i.e. wishing he was taller, less lean and more bulky, broader shoulders). These were regular nuisances during his teens but he eventually controlled the insecurities in adulthood, not managing to make them disappear completely nonetheless.

🍡 food!

* The databooks say that his fav food is inarizushi, so I've added that he likes similar things: onigiri, temaki, nigirizushi, tamagoyaki or even gyoza.

* Eats with little pleasure, only to fuel his body or whatever. That changes when Konoha is founded and he can actually enjoy and taste his meals.

* Dislikes greasy foods. Not a fan of ramen or katsudon, gyoza has to be boiled and would never eat tempura or ebi furai.

* Has a sweet tooth. We're talking dango, wagashi, dorayaki and more. However, only Izuna knew about this. Can't have a clan leader that eats candy like a little child.

* Prefers his sake cold and drinks mostly umeshu in informal gatherings.

* Actually likes fruit. I have no reason for believing this but he has the face of a man who likes fresh fruit. Fav fruit is persimmons or apples.

* Was malnourished as a child, giving away his food to his brothers or clansmen. Eventually took a toll on his muscle growth and height.

* Eats very light breakfast (maybe tea and some rice with nori or miso soup with wakame), heavy lunch (meat or fish, rice, more tea and other side dishes), no dinner.

* Favourite tea is jasmine or pu'erh, mostly drinks green tea and actually enjoys a good ceremonial matcha.

Thanks for the fun ask! I legit have a google docs of 4 pages full of hcs 😭 please send more asks about him I need to dump my brainrot

[utterfuckingchaos]

My ideas for the Interloper Gmod ARG/Project Skybox

The two main entites we see in game, known to us as "Mona" and "The Skyghost", are two U.M., Umbrella Men. They aren't male btw, both are female.

"Mona"'s real name is Io, and "The Skyghost" is Liv. Names are hard to come by in the source void, so most just take small snippets of their file names or code related to them, and make it their name. Io is from InterlOper= Io, and Liv is from oLIVe=Liv.

Io and Liv are lesbain lovers (because I am a transfem panseuxal with heavy female lean, and this is MY takes on the ARG, and in MY take it's a tragic love story between two female lovers, both twisted and changed by people who thought they knew better than them). Both are trying to find each other again, that's why Liv took Anomi to what remained of Io, so she could be with her again.

The current structure of the Source void society looks like this

Most are just DMNPCs, your average person just walking around. They aren't used for food or anything, they're just...there.

Then we have Corrupted DMNPCs, which are like disabled folks to us. Perfectly capable to do whatever DMNPC's can, but have a few problems out of their control that they can't fix themselves. Most are kept under the watch of a U.M, to make sure they stay safe.

Next up are the Floating Heads from OfficeHead. These are remnants from FaceMaker, and are just heads. They are on the same level of DMNPCs and Corrupted DMNPCs, just regular folk.

Then there are the Crashers, these are pretty much the Beat Cops of the Source void. Sent to take care of DMNPCs who have broken the more serious rules of the Source void, like killing other DMNPCs, or attempting to purposely corrupt other DMNPCs. The one from the TF2 demo, with the distorted Heavy, was deleted themselves, as they attacked an innocent Corrupted DMNPC for no reason.

Lastly are the U.M, the special guard for the Source void. If a DMNPC is too much for a Crasher to take out, or have run and hid in a new Source map to avoid a crasher, a U.M is sent to take care of them. U.M are also sent out to give older DMNPCs a way to pass away, if they wish to. The dude from Higuy asked the U.M. there to take him out, but to allow him to dance one last time, and he wanted to go out with a chase, to get one last taste of excitement before his end.

Players are mostly disliked by everyone in the Source void, deemed as irresponsible and a major threat to the lives of all Source void entities. That's why U.M's are set to attack players on sight.

---

"So...he did it to you too..?" Io asked, taking a small sip from her soda.

"No, I know Anomi, I've watched him ever since he started viewing inside of the S.V, listening in on his conversations..." Liv shudders slightly, Io seeing this, and scooting closer to her.

"It's ok, I'm here now...neither can hurt us anymore-"

"It wasn't him, when I was dropped in the water, he didn't speak a word, and his movements were entirely off. Too jerky, too jittery, completely unlike every other time I've seen him playing. Someone else did it...and I don't know who..."

"Well...whoever it is, if I ever find them...I'll brick their system, just like I did to that bastard Jan..." Io crushes the can in her hand, spitting out Eida's real name like venom.

Liv nods, and that gets her thinking. She was able to listen to Anomi's conversations, even managed to break into his discord, and started listening in on there. Aparently, Jan was back, helping Anomi. She had been spending most of her time here, now that she's back to her normal routine with Io, trying to locate Jan again. She wanted his system bricked for good...and maybe, just maybe, inflict some real damage.

[gorbo-longstocking]

Seriously How can ur employers logistically think that's fair on just one person to get the whole place sorted out by such a tight deadline??

okay so ~technically~ its up to me and about two other people to organize the whole store on friday, which sounds a lot better, right? but the way the shifts are set up, and who the coworkers in question are, basically means it falls on me. tomorrow, from 6 am-1pm, the asst manager is working by himself. so he cant organize the back of the store, or any aisles, away from the register because hes the only person running the store. and his main duty is running the register. (according to company policy he is expected to also stock and organize the front WHILE doing this, its hard) i come in at 2 pm where i work as the “manager on duty” basically organizing the back of the store between helping customers while someone else runs the register up front. but hes like… 70 and slow as shit (said with love and realism in my heart)

today, no organizing got done before i got here because it was the truck day and from open to when i came in at 1 pm, everyone was putting up the truck. if i were to forgo mine and my coworkers break (not gonna do, its never that serious, typing this on my break rn) i MIGHT be able to get done what the dm wants done. i get paid 12.91 an hour for this btw. i’m hoping if i just… get a majority of the store, or at the very least half, she will realize i tried and not go nuclear. but im not gonna hold my breath. if it was just me getting written up, i wouldn’t particularly care, but the fact it’s everyone is insane to me. and makes me kind of responsible for everyone. just… ugh.

some more context is that the store is a DISASTER lowkey. like… it takes an hour to organize the toy aisle alone. just like… dude. i hate it here so much.

if you want more tea about my job its under the cut because this shit is crazy and i have GOT to complain about this

i use ‘we’ very lax in this story, i wasnt here until 1 pm that day.

but yo, the district manager sucks at her job. most glaring example is the fact that a few weeks ago, we received a fresh truck (all of our refrigerated & frozen food) that was TRIPLE the size of the regular one. we are super understaffed, so rather than have three people working, two putting up the truck and one running the register, we had only two people here. one putting up the truck and the other running back and forth between the register and the truck. according to company policy we have three hours to put up the fresh truck before all items must be damaged out and thrown away. the asst manager called the dm to ask her to close the store until they finished the truck and she said they could close it for THIRTY MINUTES 😭

to make a long story short nearly 6k worth of food was thrown away. thats nearly an entire days worth of revenue in our small town. tis crazy in here.

also ive been super pissed off because they have me working 40 hours a week as a part time employee. and when i told the dm thats not cool, she said she was hiring two new people AND THEN DIDNT. eye twitch. theyre in the process of hiring this one guy, but she just wont fucking hire him. i need to quit chat, i need to so bad.

im not tagging this one anything because while i doubt this account can be tracked back to me irl. who fucking knows with my luck the dm reads dnbts 😭 girl if u can hear me HIRE MORE PEOPLE!!!!!!!

[majorasnightmare]

I’m gonna neeeedddd uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh a number 2, a number 9, a number 22, with a side order of 25

*dirge customer service voice* will that be all for you today? :) your total is going to be 42.96

2. What would break your OC beyond repair? Has it happened?

any mindbreak slash ego death scenario, which most of the Embrace endings qualify for. giving up all possibility of ever breaking free from Bhaal and having his personality subsumed into the Urge would ruin him. Anything resembling the person who formerly went by "Dirge" would get passed through the Urge funhouse mirror to come out distorted on the other end as his old bhaalist mindset snaps back into place, this time more permanently, and without the dissomance he used to experience. No suffering, no doubt, no Dirge, just Murder Incarnate. The "lose to Orin" endings would also thoroughly break him, because he wouldn't kill himself on the promise that he wouldn't abandon Minthara, in the vain hope something could be done to save him from the affliction. In that go around he'd end up locked in her basement eating her political enemies that she disposes of down there to keep the Urge satiated enough to stop a serious attempt at breaking out. If they ever managed to pull Bhaal's essence out of him after that, he'd be a shell of a person, more or less permanently housebound because of how much of his soul he just had ripped out, and that coupled with a less than healthy lifestyle of Exclusively Cannibalism would exacerbate his disabilities. In that hypothetical specifically, he wouldn't get better (and WOULD eventually die of a shortened mortal lifespan), but it'd be a life he was happy to live, however short and difficult it was, with Minthara. especially since it comes on the heels of a living unlife of madness and incoherence.

Some other AU hypotheticals come CLOSE, like one where the absolute pulls out a final Ace up her sleeve and snags Dirge out of prism range, but he WOULD technically get better. after a while. and after a LOT of damage was done

The only thing that could possibly meet the definition of "pre existing Break Beyond Repair" would be Orin's lobotomy resulting in Dirge's amnesia and soft personality reset, which more or less symbolically killed the person dirge used to be beyond any possibility of resurrection. and honestly, bhaalist!dirge was more than happy to go.

9. What is the greatest sacrifice your OC could ever make? Under what circumstance would they make it?

Dirge is a deeply selfish person, and simultaneously incredibly pragmatic. He regularly trades his flesh as tokens for prizes he deems more worthy, letting Volo jab his eye out because his patron alerts him to the presence of the prosthetic one that Volo would be unlikely to trade away on a whim except out of guilt. Not only does he avoid martyrdom as a rule, he also makes a point of making OTHERS avoid martyrdom, partially because he thinks living is worth it, but not insignificantly because HE wants them around. He is, generally, opposed to sacrifice on what amounts to the closest thing to moral grounds a bhaalspawn like him CAN have. He never picks fights he thinks he can lose, he never gives up what he finds value in keeping, anything he surrenders he makes sure he gets back in equal or greater value, because this dudes just straight up a bargain hunting deal making pact negotiating warlock, through and through. a GOOD warlock, a skilled one, does not sacrifice, as a rule. that wyll is prone to sacrificing himself and also so miserable in his pact is no coincidence in dirges mind

With all that being said. He'd do it for Minthara. He doesnt WANT to, mind you, because what he WANTS is to spend the rest of their lives together (ideally forever once he finds a way to get immortality where the consequences are worth it), but he'll give up anything, everything, for her wellbeing if push comes to shove. When the Sword of Damocles falls and hes there in the temple holding Orin's corpse, when Bhaal comes to him and demands he take up the mantle of chosen again or he'll kill Dirge, when Minthara is begging him to agree and theyll find a way out afterwards together, Dirge knows that letting Bhaal have such a strong presence in his soul, to take on the form of Slayer, to claim the Absolute in Bhaal's name, would be to reduce Minthara to nothing better than an agreeable broodmare in Bhaal's eyes, that Dirge would be driven to sire spawn regardless if he wants to or not, that those spawn would in turn be driven to killing their mother, and that even if he resisted, the only other option would be to kill her, to deprive her of her dream of ruling side by side. It would be another link in the long chain of abuse, set in motion long ago by a man who wanted to become divine, no matter what it cost him, and the idea of subjecting Minthara to hypothetical years of debasement, servitude, abuse, and suffering repulses Dirge to his very core. in that moment he weighs his death and the suffering itd cause against that far flung future, and the choice is overwhelmingly clear. Its that moment that makes him realize more than anything else that he WANTS to live, and thats why he has to choose to die, sacrifice everything he wanted with her, sacrifice everything he wanted FOR her, sacrifice every last second he was going to spend at her side, because her life is worth more to him than that. even as he bleeds out he never doubts for a single moment that theyre going to face the Absolute and come out victorious. and even as he hates the position hes in, hed make the same choice there, every single time

22. What is your OC the most guilty about?

Not being more involved in Orin's life. Being the first domino that resulted in Minthara's torture at Moonrise. Killing his parents. Killing Alfira. Constrained by circumstance, swept up by the inertia of passing time, things spiral away from his control and he cant stop it or fix it. Couldn't manage to break out of his role enough to keep from swallowing Orin in his shadow, didn't know Minthara yet and thus couldn't love her enough to spare her before she ever left the Underdark, trapped and feral and useless screaming madly on Kressa's work table while in the same prison Orin forces a tadpole into Minthara, waking up in the dead of night with no awareness or control covered in the gore of someone he couldn't stop himself from killing.

Living through all of it when the people who gave him the second life he lives (that he didn't earn, that he doesn't deserve) both end up crushed under his boot.

25. What does your OC love most, and what would they do to keep it?

Dirge, ironically enough for a death cult nihilist, is a real loverboy. Beneath every horror and every atrocity and every sacrilege and blasphemy, is love. He loved Bhaal as his Father, and wanted to be a good dutiful son. He loved Orin, and wanted to keep her from being broken by expectation. He loved Gortash, enough that it started to untwist the suicidal desire for slaughter that he had carried for most of his life, loved him enough to think about wanting to live. He loves his friends, Astarion and Gale and Lae'zel and Wyll and Shadowheart and Karlach, loves Jaheira and Minsc, loves Isobel and Aylin. He loves Minthara, loved her at first sight, loves her just as an intrinsic facet of his soul. When Dirge loves, it is deep and sincere and genuine and thorough, the scales of his affection balanced against the vast disdain and apathy for the world by the sheer world-cracking love he feels for this small handful of people. Power and wealth and material goods can be obtained as often as needed, but these people? It is only here, and it is only now.

To keep them? To have them and to hold them and to be around them? He would do anything. But honestly whats more insightful is what he doesn't do. Killing is cheap for Dirge. The inflicting of pain, the enactment of atrocities, plumbing new depths of suffering. Rote and habitual. That he would storm all nine Hells and spear Zariel's head on a pike is a given. No, what matters is that to keep those he loves, he will stay his hand.

He doesn't kill Ulder Ravenguard. Wyll wants his father to live, so it doesn't matter to Dirge that he hates the man for his treatment of Wyll, hates that all the affection and tenderness didn't spare Wyll from seven years of exile, hates that even now he doesn't feel Ulder gives Wyll his due. For this he'd happily flay the man alive until the screams rang out a perfect melody in his ears. But Wyll wants Ulder alive. Wants his father back, wants to have him and to talk to him. So Dirge stays his hand, goes out of his way to break Wyll's pact but rescue Ulder anyways. Wyll asks for so little, that Dirge will always give him what he wants.

He doesn't tell Jaheira to keep the ritual that would allow her to extend her life, to live and guide and fight as long as shes needed. Jaheira has lovers, family, friends, all dearly missed, and more than that she is running herself ragged fighting the good fight. It doesn't matter if Dirge thinks the Harpers are fools, if Dirge personally wants Jaheira to live so he can stay with her, what matters is Jaheira needs to rest. Needs to see the people she's left behind, needs to see Khalid again one day. Regardless of what he wants, Dirge wouldn't put her through that

To keep what he loves, Dirge will force himself to stillness for their sakes

[voidbeau]

Yapping about more OCs

Cause fuck it, we're under my roof and we abide MY rules!

and my only rule on this blog is, Bou gets to talk about whatever he wants.

oh and also, don't be an asshat is also a general rule of thumb. That's just general life advice tho.

ANYWAY

We already know I'm super into Thorn. I made that incredibly apparent, but i also love the rest of the gaggle of fuckos this particular shit rag comes from.

That is, Onii, Ozzy and Lyca- all childhood friends.

There's two more from this group i neglected to mention and I probably won't go into those two very much either, but I have my raisins for why!

I may mention them in passing though BUT if i ever get back to writing the fics I wanted to write- which i will eventually even if it happens a year or two down the line, those giant question marks for characters will absolutely come up and be better explained there.

As I've said previously, I just feel like some things are better left to the fic.

But i still wanna yap. 🥺

I feel like micro glimpses about these guys' history and just a snippit of what they're like is safe to explore without potentially saying too much too soon.

But that also means I may be a little vague about certain things here while I unceremoniously dump everything out all at once from my oc dookie ideas bucket.

Anyway!!

Onii, Ozzy and Lyca were and are all childhood friends of Thorn's.

(Frog girl is not mine but this is the only image I have with all of them together 😭) I think I've talked the least about Lyca so far and only briefly mentioned things about Onii and Ozzy.

Out of the three I've talked about Ozzy the most in my last post.

But anyway, Lyca.

Chill guy, bassist of the band, backup vocals and does some guitar. Spends the most time with Ozzy and another friend in the group. He and Onii are often the first ones to get caught up in a fight but will also be the ones to finish it.

Starting fights is not their thing necessarily, but trying to handle a situation only to get wrapped up in it is. Thus, Lyca and Onii were among the first to get in trouble at school for shit that they barely had anything to do with to begin with.

Lyca is a fairly levelheaded person though I guess. He's often the one dishing out advice but will also often disappear when things get particularly heavy.

I imagine for him it's just fatigue. A lot of shit going on with the family, a lot of shit going on with friends and always the first person a lot of people might try to go to for advice or support.

The feeling of being pulled in all directions and not being enough makes him withdraw a lot.

He wants to help but he needs help himself, not that he ever asks for it. But there was always one friend in the group who managed to find him at his lowest and help him back on his feet. Some people who might not know Lyca very well may label him selfish and something of a fair-weather friend. Especially when on the surface he very much comes off as this foul mouthed, rowdy dude bro who's only ever around when it's convenient or fun for him.

Not many people get to see his serious side.

He often gets messed with or teased by Thorn a lot and gets into little petty arguments with Onii.

I always imagine Lyca feels very guilty when it comes to an "incident" that leads to the eventual, slow falling apart of the friend group. He doesn't believe anything could have been prevented given nobody but Thorn and possibly one other person know what the catalyst to "the incident" was, but he believes he could have at least helped mitigate some of the resulting damage done.

Damage that lost them two friends. One dead and the other M.I.A.

If only he'd been more present and attentive, but he found it hard to swallow some of the things his friends were trying to tell him up until that point.

Onii was one of those in the group who took the results of "the incident" the hardest, but unlike another friend who was given to isolation, Onii's tendency to put on a tough face and ride things out only intensified.

Her methods of help and support may come off a little brutish or cold, but she sticks to what she knows and she's good at it.

When things went south, Onii gave herself to reckless coping mechanisms and hid her feelings even tighter than she normally did behind grand promises to fix everything, and did it with such confidence she gave hope to her other close friend who wasn't taking things any better than her.

Which of course was Onii's intent, even if she wasn't sure how she was going to keep her promise. But she'd figure it out. She always figured things out, even if she had to spend the rest of her days hunting down the group's missing friend, Thorn.

She'd make sure to beat the shit out of him when she found him too for bailing on everyone.

Up until that point, Onii's only real direction in life was to see her friends and band mates succeed. Given that Onii still felt lost and stuck in life at this point, she hadn't given her future much thought outside of the band- never thought about what might happen if the plan failed.

Or couldn't, really. It was all she had, so it was hard to think her only plan for the future was crumbling right before her eyes.

An aspiring and talented drummer who was falling out of rhythm with the rest of her band mates as people started to slowly drift away.

In the face of tragedy and confusion, how could she blame anyone?

Still, she couldn't stand to watch everything and everyone fall apart.

Onii was in fact, one of the closest to Thorn and the second person to be able to snake her way into his life so intimately while the two of them both looked up to their recently deceased friend.

They kept each other sharp and Onii was always there to make sure her best friend wasn't falling apart on her. It was rare for most people to catch Thorn in his low moments, but Onii was one of the few to be able to sniff them out. She hated the stench of them and only wanted to the best for her friend. But there was some underlying jealousy on Onii's part when it came to Thorn.

She always felt left behind and overshadowed by him. He always seemed to be the favourite. Charismatic and confident against her brooding and awkward, shut off nature. Onii often sat on the sidelines, watching Thorn navigate his way through a strict and uncertain environment with apparent ease, succeeding in almost everything he did regardless of the hurdles he had to jump or the trouble he caused. All the while Onii felt consistently aimless in life when Thorn always had these big big detailed plans for the future, plans she just went along with.

But Onii was very good at covering up her weaknesses, much like Thorn.

The quiet jealousy did make Thorn and Onii's relationship tense at points and being that Onii had never ever been upfront and honest about her emotions, it often took a lot to resolve any issues.

Things would get complicated before they got better, but Thorn knew how to wear her down and get her to open up- even if it took time, effort and a little bit of literal blood sweat and tears.

And maybe possibly a couple of mediators among their friend group.

The same situation could often be said on Thorn's end for various other reasons though.

Tough love and a little discipline often went a long way and were even requirements for both Thorn and Onii.

Both Thorn and Onii were and are very ambitious but given to fits of emotion if things don't quite go as they hoped or planned, and sometimes they need a little nudge in the right direction or a full on reality check.

The two often get stuck on themselves and as a result, Onii was never aware that Thorn had his own complicated feelings about her.

To him, she was this big bright beacon of independence and individuality that he only wished he had. He worked hard to emulate her, building the framework of some kind of personality on the way he understood her, but she was always just out of reach and all he ever was a smudge in the mirror. Thorn talked big sure, often followed through with his big plans, but often times they were just ways of filling a void. To make up for things he felt he lacked.

To Thorn, Onii wasn't overly concerned and weighed down by the future or the weighty expectations of family. She lived for the now. She lived carefree.

She was one of Thorn's biggest inspirations for becoming who he is today and is still one of the most persistent voices in the back of his head when he's stuck or struggling.

He's never felt he could quite measure up, and so in efforts to not disappoint his moody friend he's always put his absolute best in everything he's done.

In his guitar playing and singing, in his fight against his mother and in the promise he made to another very important friend.

----

I quite enjoy Onii and Thorn.

Like

A lot o vo

I can see so many moments where these two are getting into fights, concerning or outright scaring so many people around them but their closest friends are there like,

"Nah, let 'em get it out. It's how they communicate. :)"

They all grew up in the same nowhere Void among the same oddball Voidfolk- or at the very least, very close to each other's Voids.

They all went to the same highschool and all dealt with generally the same struggles. Though Thorn did tend to have a set of very unique issues when it came to his family and the Void they occupied. As well as one other friend in the group.

Obviously there was a lot of drama in highschool, that's pretty par for the course but I think that with the unique situation that most of these guys didn't even realize they were in the middle of, that came with a whole new set of problems to have to worry about.

Many of them life threatening.

There is still much in terms of individual backstory I want to work on and flesh out better when it comes to these guys.

Things may still be subject to some adjustment or even full on change but for the most part, this has kind of always been on my mind for them.

[operatorsdiner]

Cigarettes & Cryptic Neighbors: Entry 4

Dante’s phone buzzed and lit up with a text notification from Adrian. “Hey, could you come in for like an hour and clean the walk-in fridge? Some big ass thing tore it up and Baylen is tweaking hard.” Dante looked down at the text as he used his towel to pat his hair dry. His face twisted into a frown as he picked up the phone to try and come up with even an inkling of an idea how to respond to such a request but before he could even type the words he wanted, Enzo had beaten him to it. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” Dante looked at the screen and shrugged as he closed the phone and continued on with his night. He was used to hell shitting on his job when he was there so the idea of things going wrong while he was gone didn't bother him. It was essentially a part of the job description that Waffle House is its own circle of hell nestled oh so graciously between greed and wrath; His own personal inferno.  He opened his bathroom door and gracefully tossed his phone on his bed, choosing to focus on his recovery for his own health. Dante coughed harshly into his elbow and used his fist to lightly pound on his chest in hopes of migrating the clinging mucus coating his insides. The shower was meant to loosen up the sickening flem inside him and ease the migraine that brought him to his knees in agonizing pain in class today. His head chef sent him home from his pastry course after he fell over an open oven door from his vision spotting. Dante pressed his hands tightly to his face as he stumbled over to his bed and allowed himself to let gravity pull him down to his mattress. With his head throbbing he could do nothing but lay on his stomach with a pillow over his head as he shook in pain. This wasn't the first time he had had migraines but it had been over 15 years since he'd last had a migraine in all honesty; besides his cigarette every two days he was the pinnacle of health. He never drank alcohol, never took damaging drugs in high school, hell he was even a purple belt in jujitsu so the resurgence of one of the worst pains in his life not only has him annoyed but also a bit worried for his health. He had already called earlier in the day to schedule an appointment to not only check up on his health but possibly get his old prescription back for his migraine medication. For now, all Dante could do was lay in bed in agony as his brain scraped against his frontalis begging to be free. He continued to shake, almost fainting from the pain when it started to die down and he finally let his aching muscles relax from being clenched and tensed from the agony his skull decided to bestow upon him. He let out a pained groan as he removed the pillow from over his head and sat up on his mattress. Moving his duvet to the side he grabbed his phone and flinched as the bright screen invaded his senses. 

Soon his eyes adjusted to the screen as he checked his notifications. 50 unread messages. Lovely. He clicked on the work group chat and scrolled up past the wall of sarcastic memes to see what he missed. In the texts Adrian and Enzo bickered back and forth about how there should be no reason why they should be contacting either Enzo or Dante after they called off of work for very serious health issues, especially considering the fact they never call off work. Adrian could only counter by saying no one else wanted to handle it since the incident happened in the walk-in fridge, and Baylen only trusted Enzo or Dante to clean in there normally.  Enzo thankfully stood their ground for the both of them and told Adrian to either handle it themself or Enzo would come in to handle it in a very unprofessional manner. Scrolling through the rest of the chat was just the other night shift crew obviously fucking around and not cleaning the store. Normally on shift, Dante has to play manager and tell people 4 years older than him to do their job so the day shift does not harass them, but the one day he's gone he could already see the stupid yellow managerial note taped to the night shift desk bitching about how filthy it was when they opened. They always found something to bitch about though; ironic considering they never cleaned in preparation for the night crew and often left large messes for hours on end for the night shift to clean. Dante rolled his eyes as he stood up to grab his uniform to head to work. Might as well be a team player since Baylen was already having a bad night. As he pulled on his black jeans his phone came to life once more grabbing his attention at hand. Tilting his head at an angle to read the message from his beloved manager, Baylen, he let out a sigh of relief as he opened the chat. 

“I‘ll deal with the walk-in, I was the one who fired rounds into it anyway.” Dante’s face scrunched with a look that was a mix of concern, confusion, and disappointment. “You know what. Not even going to question it. You do you.” The message was left on seen as Dante continued to get dressed to head out for the night. The West Virginia fall was not kind with its temperatures, especially in the hilly woods that Dante called his home. Dante laced up his boots and stood tall as he left his bedroom, heading straight for the coat rack to grab his heaviest jacket. His dad’s old beat-up carhartt jacket was the best thing he had around to keep him warm and comfortable in the chilling air. Checking his pockets for his lighter and cigarettes, he slid the chain of his lock to the left and unlocked his door making sure to grab his keys on the way out. Once in the hall of his apartment, he turned around quickly pulling on the door handle harshly as he stuck his key into the knob to lock the door behind him. “You didn’t knock on my door today,” a monotone voice said from behind him. Dante nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned around at breakneck speed to see who was behind him. Standing behind Dante with a shit-eating grin was his neighbor and fellow college classmate, Cody. Dante held his hand to his chest as he let out a sigh of relief before slapping Cody's arm harshly. “You scared me you fucking dickhead,” he grumbled as he pulled his key out of the door handle. Cody let out a mischievous chuckle and gave Dante a lopsided grin. “You know me. Silent but deadly.” Dante snickered as he turned and headed down the hallway with Cody trailing behind. They both headed down the stairs of their apartment building and out of the back exit to an alleyway behind the building. The alleyway wasn't the ideal spot to stand around at, as it held the dumpsters and feral animals of the town. More often than not week old trash and moldy cardboard littered the concrete floor with the smell of cat piss wafting over for added ambiance, but to Dante, it didn't matter as he had gone nose blind to it years ago when he had moved in. Dante wasted no time heading over to the metal stairs that connected to the building and taking his seat. Pulling out his pack of newports, he grabbed one and placed it between his lips as he cuffed his hand in front of his face, bringing the lighter up to the end of it. Once the tip glowed a burnt ember orange, he took a long drag and then held it in, relishing in the warmth and slight burning it brought to his lungs. He exhaled as a familiar tingle spread across his body, “God I've needed a hit of nicotine all day, you have no idea,” Dante chuckled gruffly as he looked up at Cody who was pulling out his own pack. Cody smiled while shaking his head as he pulled out his desired cigarette and felt around his pockets. “Forgot my lighter again. You mind?” Cody questioned as he placed it delicately between his lips. Dante snickered and rolled his eyes at Cody's carelessness. 

“When do I ever mind?” Dante retorted as he placed the cigarette back in his mouth. Cody smiled as he leaned down and touched the tip of his cigarette against Dante’s. Cody's bright green eyes focused on the cancer sticks between them, but Dante couldn't help but let his eyes drift to admire the man in front of him. They had been neighbors for 3 years since Dante had turned 18 and moved to the dingy apartment building in hopes of starting his young adult life on the right foot. Cody was the first to introduce himself as he was in the exact same boat as Dante. Being the only other person close in age to Dante at 23, the two got along right away as not only were they neighbors but were also students of the same campus. While Dante was in the culinary arts program Cody was in the pathology program. Not only was Cody extremely educated he was also very pretty to Dante. Pale skin littered with freckles and beauty marks, hands constantly moisturized with neatly cut nails, a gentle face with nice cheekbones, glasses that brought attention to his strong eye shape, and wavy brown hair that just suited him nicely. Dante always admired him for his ambitions and his boyish charms. He only came back to the present moment as Cody pulled back and took a long drag of his smoke. “I was on my way over to the Waffle House to see you when you were walking out of your apartment. Didn’t you have work today?”  He asked, looking down at the man in front of him on the steps. Dante shrugged. “Had a migraine in class. Called off work. Set up a doctor's appointment as well because I haven't had migraines like that since I moved here from Michigan.” Cody hummed in acknowledgment as he took another hit. “Shame, I was hoping you'd bring me the leftovers of today's class assignment.” Dante laughed dryly and smiled as he shook his head. “I'm not your personal chef, you know. I work at a Waffle House for christ’s sake.” He sucked on his cancer stick and rubbed his boot on the ground. Pulling out his phone he checked the time and checked his messages. A few from the night shift’s group chat bullshitting around again, and a few from Enzo talking about their migraine finally fading away. Cody moved closer, leaning over Dante to spy on his phone. 

Finding nothing of interest from his quick glance, Cody leaned away and continued to smoke. “Hey, just so you know, I’m having friends from out of town come over a lot in the next few weeks, so if you hear banging or something coming from my apartment you know why,” Cody said off-handedly and shrugged. Dante rested his elbows on the steps behind him while he stretched out his legs in front of him, “As long as you aren’t having loud sex and your friends don’t fuck with my door we’re cool. You know how bad I get when I'm paranoid.” Cody's face scrunched up in disgust at the mention of sex but nodded at Dante’s requests, “Sounds fair to me. You don’t bother my friends and they won't bother you.” Cody took one last drag before dropping his cigarette onto the wet concrete and snuffing it out with a twist of his converse. “Well, I have a path assignment due by Thursday. I'll stop by your job tomorrow to grab my usual so I can fuel up to study. I’m gonna bring my friend along with me though. I'm sure you'll love them. They're a bit of a weirdo like you.” Dante’s head snapped in Cody’s direction with a stern glare. “You're cruel and unusual for that but you're not wrong. Just a dickhead.” Cody laughed as he headed to the back door and held it open. Looking back at Dante he grinned and chuckled. He rested his temple against the door as he looked at the boy on the stairs. “You know you love me. Anyways, don't stay out here too long, your health is already all sorts of fucked and the last thing you need is a cold right now. I'll see you around, Dante.” With that, he stepped inside, letting the metal door softly shut behind him. Dante smiled softly at where Cody once stood as he finished his cigarette. Standing up, he tossed the butt to the floor, stomping it out before turning and heading towards the door.  As his hand touched the door handle, a shooting pain spread across his body and dark spots flooded his vision as another migraine ensued. Dante used the door to brace his body and he opened it and stumbled inside, using the wall to hold him up. Squeezing his eyes shut until wet hot tears of pain streamed down his face, he used his sense of touch to lead himself up the stairs and back to his apartment. Making his way to his door, he reached into his pocket, yanking out his keys and slamming them into the keyhole with one go. He quickly twisted the keys and stepped inside, closing the door behind him as gently as possible as he turned around. Locking both locks he threw his keys into a bowl. He didn't have the energy to even go to his room as he collapsed on the couch, curling up into a tight ball to try and stop the pain. He shook and cried silently as his cranium begged for a hole to be put in it. He felt his phone buzz again as he laid there pathetically. Grabbing it quickly, he opened up the messenger to see a text from Baylen. “Hey, dress nice tomorrow. Your polaroid on the staff board has disappeared so we're gonna have to retake it. Hope you feel better.”

[gamebird]

@rembrandtswife (I can't tag you for some reason)

But here are my current loves. They were hatched out just this spring. The rooster is inventively named "Dude" and his sisters don't have names. Although they do have fancy anklets so I can tell them apart from their mother, who didn't run outside for treats like these two did.

These are asils, which is a breed originally bred for naked heel fighting in southeast Asia and India (these particular ones being more of the Indian type, Rajah asil). They don't fight - at least not intentionally. Dude had four brothers but one day they all chose violence and on that day I was very glad I was home, as I separated them before they could do much damage. His brothers went to my father's house where they enjoy separate pens, and my father has sold two of them to other fanciers. They are a difficult breed to manage because of how early they decide to fight and how serious and to-the-death they are when that kicks in.

But they are gentle and charming with people, less prone to manfighting than other breeds, and they tend to live a long time. My last one, Sunny, had a respiratory disease from the day I got him at the age of 6 months and died of it finally 8 years later. I am hoping Little Dude makes it past 10 years.

My dad has a lot of strains of game chickens. He fought them when he was younger (and so did I, we're talking decades ago), but now that he's in his age he enjoys raising them and selling them to people. They're very pretty.

I currently have Dude, his three sisters, his mother, a roundhead hen named Legolas (or Leggy-lass, or optionally 'Butthole Woman' because she was very mean to the other chickens but now that the asils are older she is okay with them), and a buff orpington named Buffy, whom Dude has decided is too big and threatening and he has tried to kill her even though he was raised with her, so I have her in a separate pen and put one or two of the asil girls in with her from time to time as company.

Buffy is entirely innocent in this and has done nothing to deserve his aggression. She's going on four years, which for her breed is fairly old, so I'll just keep her until she passes rather than try to find a different situation for her. I have two pens, both with runs like you see in the background of the picture. So I keep Dude in one and her in the other.

Next month most likely the asil girls will go to my father's. That will be for the breeding season. Dude doesn't need to get it on with his sisters and mom. I will then just have Dude, Legolas, and Buffy, so maybe I'll pick up a hen or two. My dad has a couple of truly ancient asil hens I might take on if they can be safely integrated. He doesn't tend to keep them if he's not able to use them in breeding, but I have them entirely as pets so I don't care if they don't lay anymore.

I could go on and on about chickens but this is enough.