#also permanent bruise overlay because he would be

[rhysnolastname]

I need bg3 to let me edit my character throughout the game because I really like changing appearance to show time progression ☹️

[achieveandhunt]

live typing extra life 2019

part 2

warning: this was a mistake and i’m in the grapes

this starts right at Facilities vs AH. link to first post

let’s fuck some shit up babEY

oh what the fuck they’re playing a prerecorded video

last year was a fuckin doozy, nobody forget that

“legends of the under achiever” i didn’t know someone wrote my biography

why do i hear geoff screaming “FIVE FUCKIN FOUR” in my head, like in the legends of the hidden temple minecraft videos

jeremy looks. so dead inside on this fine november evening

ryan buzzing while they’re trying to explain the rules

my video quality went down so much that i thought i was watching someone playing roblox for a second

ryan “salty mother fucker” haywood has made a lovely appearance. he’s my favorite

michael and lindsay looking so domestic makes me so happy,, they’re my parents

someone donated under the name “ryan goes feral” uh??? yeah? you say that like it’s a bad thing??

oH FUCK MICHAEL GO DRIVE WIN PLEASE

jeremy HAS BROKEN OUT THE GLASSES SHIT’S SERIOUS

NO THEY’RE LOSING GOD DAMMIT

ʳʸᵃⁿ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ, ᵠᵘᶦᵉᵗˡʸ: ʰᵉˡᵖ

JEREMY IT’S TIME TO TEST OUT THAT NONEXISTENT GAG REFLEX AND SWALLOW THE OPPONENT’S CONTROLLER

oh nvm they’re winning again lmao

OH FUCK thEYRE LOSING

oh nvm

OH FUCK

oh nvm they unplugged his contoller lol

OH FUCKING TH EY LOST MICHAEL JONES MY HEART IS BROKEN

the amount of people watching has gone up from 32k to 40k in the past fifteen minutes

michael “hurry up you dumb cunts” jones

“oh don’t worry about destroying our cabinet, it’s essentially matchsticks”

“how are you feeling john? are you ready for this?” “MM M M Mmm mM”

TEAM NICE DYNAMITE IS NEXT AND IM READY FOR PERMANENTLY RINGING EARS FROM ALL THE LEET DONATIONS

oH god here we go

“hopefully they haven’t been saving them all day” oh honey. you’ve got a big storm coming

if xavier slaps gavin i think gav might go up in a puff of smoke

i did the math, they went up 45k+ within five minutes of team nice dynamite showing up on stream

GAVIN AND MICHAEL ARE GOING TO DIE

THERE’S GONNA BE A MOONBALL SIZED HOLE IN GAVIN’S CHEST

ryan and lindsay both donating a grand during this segment... so good

the day gavin free successfully gets a tattoo is the day i drop dead

lindsay saying she didn’t want the TND tattoo on michael but she agreed because gav is michael’s boi :((( 

i’m too sleep deprived for this i might cry

oh god michael’s punching the floor

i’m too sober for this

EIGHTY EIGHT LEET DONATIONS IN TWENTY MINUTES HOLY FUCJKIGN SHIT YOU GUYS ARE GONNA BE THROWING MOONBALLS FOR FUCKIN SIX YEARS

on a sentimental note- i love how much collective love we have for gav and michael,, they deserve it all

milk boarded has some not-so-great connotations attached to it

gavin “the bullshit bitch” free

a mark nutt reference?? in my 2019 extra life????

this just in: sarah is going to obliterate gavin

oh. oh my god. that was the sound of a wet fish smacking a wall

why is jeremy the liquor goblin walking like a crab that has a bird attached to its back??? see: flapping arms

that beer and milk concoction... gag

“drink that milk yard”

“YOU GOT MY TOES MILKY”

no. nO MICHAEL NO YOUR INTESTINES NOO

michael “the milk’s in my brain” jones

“stop pouring it on people!” “iT’S HARD DICKHEAD”

lindsay is now. taking a milk shower

*caiti brings a small roll of paper towels* *gavin gently places a single paper towel on the massive puddle of milk*

no LINDSAY NO THINK OF THE CHILDREN

gavin: this has gotten way out of hand. she’s... she’s swimming in an inch of milk! everyone knows you should swim in at least two!!

the fajita seasoning will solve everythinG everyone calm down

fiona: yeah this is my first extra life. jack: and what were you expecting? fiona: this. exactly this.

ah yes. the bunny suits have arrived and michael is ready to tackle gavin

aaaand here comes the AH fanfic. it can only get worse from here so buckle up fuckos

“holy fuckeroni”

“re-reanimated trevor”

michael is so fucking smashed and god i wish that was me

“cum-ductor”

fiona “this is a white man” nova

“bone-ating” *leet donation* *leet donation* 

“ready set blow” made me genuinely bust a lung laughing

aaaand michael’s licking the floor which is to be expected

jeremy “i’m gonna actually harm you” dooley

IF ONE MORE PERSON BRINGS UP RANCH IM GOING TO WALK TO AUSTIN AND PROJECTILE VOMIT ON THE OFF TOPIC SET

no JEREMY NO YOU WERE THE CHOSEN ONE I THOUGHT YOU WOULDN’T DO THIS GET OFF THE F  L O O R

don’t get close ups on jeremy’s tongue. don’t do that to me. i don’t want nightmares

“fuck root” “let’s just fucking fuck”

1 2 3 CONSENT

michael has gone full gerkie

alfredo’s look when larry is reading the part about trevor choking him is how i feel about everything that’s happened in the past twenty minutes

almost 300k in less than an hour 

fiona saying “i don’t want this” overlaying michael humping a trash can

“TAKE THE TACO CHAD”

aaaand michael’s in the trash can

nO why is there a triangle is this a POETRY READING ALL OF A SUDDEN

oh thank god it’s over

OH FUCK THERE’S A N EPILOGUE

aaand trevor’s dead again. poor treyco

DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS EVERYONE PUT A CUP IN YOUR PANTS

people singing along... what goes on

why am i downloading this fuckin song asap

jeremy turning his phone flashlight on and waving it like he’s at a concert god dammit i love these people so much

those are my BOYS

oh my gosh they’re still singing the song. why is my heart so happy from this i need to get slapped

“come on you’ve never been waterboarded before gavin?”

everyone standing in a circle shining their flashlights at gavin

someone surprise them and instead of a moonball just yeet a whole gallon of milk at them

actually, on second thought, no

OH god GavIN Is GOING to Die 

gavin “i forgot to breathe” free

several milk explosions

gavin “my brain is cold” free

michael has milk dripping from his ears

i’m about to pass out i don’t know what’s happening

michael is in the grapes right now man

how many moonballs? oh, only 107. :)

i’m not writing this part- you guys have to watch the moonball segment yourself, if you didn’t watch it live!

team nice dynamite finishes up with over 300k!! holy shit, that’s so cool! this community is awesome

werewolf is up next!

xavier is such a gentleman can we keep him

alfredo: *chooses to kill miles* trevor in the audience: *silently freaking out*

xavier is about ruin another man on stream

miles has no self preservation instinct

barbara is now smelling fiona

this just in: i love alfredo and 100% would have done the same thing

trevor running up to film alfredo getting smacked. what an icon

alfredo SCREAMING oh my god i felt it in my soul

the high-five of the backs in solidarity of intense pain

miles choosing alfredo is so fucking good

and also, i feel so bad 

his heart might shoot out of his asshole this time guys

oh NOOO HE’s so bruised :(((( fredo nooo :((

oh my god it’s gotten to the usual point in the stream where you start to question whether someone is going to die this time

rip blaine but at least i think he can take the hit

he can but ouch it still hurts me 

barbara “i’m participating in the game” dunkleman

yo miles might win this game

the crowd when someone needs to shoot barb: TREVOR TREVOR TREVOR! trevor, with the strength of a thousand suns: N O

people are now chanting about shooting an unprotected trevor. the man already died once this stream god dammit

alfredo is about to throw hands for fiona

that’s a big F in the chat for miles, but his loss is well deserved

xavier’s hands could serve as a defibrillator

alfredo showed jeremy his chest and jeremy shied away as if he was looking at the sun

 --- i’m taking another break to finish an assignment---

i’m barely alive and it’s ready set show time 

oh god please no more shock collars

i’m so fucking tiiiiredd please take thge res t of this post  wigth  a grain of salt lbecasue i can hardly type at this ponitn 

“do you want to control the shock collars” “will there be repercussions” “no” “fuck yeah i’ll do it then”

“smother the children. steal the baby” “DONT STEAL THE BABY TREVOR”

lunging forward “s c a r e  t h e  b a b y” “OKAY I’M PASSING THIS ONE”

“you can’t bake popcorn????” jeremy hits the floor

alec and matt clearly = dream team

oh thasnk god the shock collars are on their arms now i was stressed out for chris earlier

this stream does not promote recreational nyquil usage 

i don’t even know how to explain the pure insanity of what ready set show has become

alec has become this whole segment

i would write more but i have no thoughts because my brain doesn’t work

larry “makes people fuck other people besides their wife” insert last name that my brain can’t come up with

anyways. marbles

oh. no marbles

i’ve blacked out idk what happened during backwardz compatible

i mean i was awake but does that really mean anything at this point

SPPOKU PSOOKY SPPOKKKY SPOOOKY !!! FUCL YEAH 

cole is so good during this segment

oh so many 1337s right away 

the real scariest thing during the segment: being genuine

oH my god the scream being pitched up. i have fucking dogs outside of my house now

i don’t fuck w/ ghosts no thank you

“aba-jail” wow if u guys weren’t gonna get haunted before you will now

okay i’m about to pass out i have to take a nap

oH fucking I SLEPT until thirty minutes before the en d  fuck

conclusion: this community is incredible and raised an unimaginable amount of money for charity. the fact that rooster teeth does this every year is awesome, and honestly, it makes me feel hopeful in times when things aren’t so great. so yeah! for the kids & stuff 

[gwaciechang]

Love Run (2/10?)

“Though some would harm you, none, not one, No none will raise to you a hand nor thumb”

Once more, spoiler warning for the “Stan Lee’s Lucky Man” episode “Run Rabbit Run,” and trigger warnings for Bobby Hayes’ general life. This chapter includes brief torture, and some EXTREMELY graphic violence and gore. I’m not kidding about that graphic violence, guys. It’s to a character we don’t like but still. This story won’t be uploaded to AO3 until it’s complete, only this chapter is below the cut.

Bobby spends the next several hours analyzing the same five seconds of footage while you call everyone you can in hopes of finding someone who can cover your shift this afternoon.

“Alright, well, thank you anyway, Scott,” you say with much more pleasantness than you feel. You let your head thunk against the wall. “God, if this keeps happening, I’m going to end up with a smile permanently plastered to my face.”

“You already have one,” Bobby says absently, tapping keys that overlay a grid on the footage, except for one part of a woman’s neck and head. He grins excitedly, and you pause for a second just to watch him bask in his own victory. He makes a call, then gets up and offers you a gloved high-five.

“Clever boy,” you wink at him, and his scarlet face makes an interesting expression.

“It was easy,” he insists, “all I had to do was-”

You never find out what he had to do, because there’s an angry pounding at the door. Your legs turn to jelly and you slide down on the floor. Bobby hastily switches to a different screen, and you can tell by the way the joy and blood drains from his face that it’s the man from last night. He doesn’t look at you, instead taking out his phone.

The phone rings once, twice, three times, and the man at the door pounds on it again.

“Harry, I won’t let them get away with your murder. Don’t let them get away with mine,” he taps his fingers in that six-beat rhythm, and you find yourself shakily humming Queen along with it.

He smiles at you, and there’s something steely in his eyes. “I’ve nailed down what doesn’t bother me,” his voice is steady before he hangs up. “Come on,” he gestures for you to stand and follow him, so you do, into an surprisingly clean bathroom. You hope for a second that he’s going to help you escape from the back window. But the room is windowless, and the door locks behind you.

“What the hell?” you shout.

“I’m sorry. I’ve called Harry and left him a message. He’ll come here, and he’ll find you. You just have to-” more pounding at the front door, and his breath stutters. “You just have to stay quiet until then. I’m sorry.”

He leaves, and you hear wood groan and crack before something gets hurled at the bathroom door. More wood splinters and cracks, and the man from last night speaks again.

“I told you to call me. I thought you were smarter than this.” His voice is like ice being injected directly into your veins.

Bobby gags. You peer out of the space between the door and the floor, but all you can see a single pair of feet. Is the man choking him? You look around for something, anything, that you can use to break down the door. But Bobby’s obsessive cleaning extends to this area of his apartment as well, and only the hope of keeping the element of surprise keeps you from crying out in frustration.

Outside, you can hear grunts and thuds. You have no doubt that Bobby is losing the fight, as reluctant as he is to hurt another person even when they’re hurting him. One thud is hard enough to make the walls shake, and you catch a nail that falls out of the pipe under the sink.

Hang on, this could work.

“Thank god for shitty engineering,” you mutter under your breath. You hear thuds that turn into squishes, and ragged, guttural gasps. God, what the hell is happening out there?

“Where the fuck is he going?”

“I, I told you, I d-d-don’t know.”

“Have you told anyone?”

“No.”

It comes out too fast, and your heart pounds in your ears, not loudly enough to drown out a choked scream.

“Who did you tell?”

“No one.”

Another muffled scream.

“You think he’s coming to save you? A crazy little junkie? No, I could kill you right now, and nobody would care. No one’s coming to your rescue, kid, so make it easy on yourself and tell me where Harry’s gone, and who else you’ve talked to.”

It takes you an eternity and a half to get the pipe unscrewed and into your hand, and finally you can slam it on the doorknob and kick it open.

You can see the man from last night leering over Bobby, who has his shirt scrunched around his armpits, revealing-

Oh god, those are fucking burns. And the man who made them is stalking over to you.

“No!” Bobby lets out his first true scream. He starts to struggle in the chair he’s been ziptied to, succeeding only in making blood drip down his tapping fingers.

You hope his rituals are bringing him comfort, because your entire world narrows to a piece of the staircase that Bobby threw in front of the bathroom door for some reason. You pick it up and throw it at the man from last night. It never makes contact with him because he pauses for barely a second to knock it out of the way, but it’s a second for you to raise the pipe before he can aim his gun at you.

You hit him on the side of the head and there’s an actual crunch that makes you gag. He staggers and braces himself against the wall, reaching up to hold his head. You hesitate because he looks pathetic, but the gun is still in his hand and he’s raising it toward you, so you raise the pipe over your head to bring it down on the top of his skull. There’s no crunch this time, and he lunges at you. The gun fires so close to your ear that you couldn’t possibly hear Bobby’s whimper, but you still do, somehow. You bring the pipe down on the same spot, and when he becomes dead weight on top of you, you scream. Something drips out from where the pipe is now embedded in his skull, oh jesus that was not something you needed to see. You shove him off of you with bloody hands, except it’s not blood. You scramble backward because that is his brain on your hands, and you vomit on the floor until only bile comes out.

Your eyes and shoulder burns when you’re aware again, and Bobby is hoarsely calling your name. You manage to hold up a shaking hand. “I’m okay,” you think you manage to say.

“He shot you, I saw it!” and he’s hysterical, he’s going to hurt himself if he keeps struggling, but you just can’t fucking move.

You try to rub the soreness out of your shoulder in hopes that it makes your arm move more easily, and that’s when you become aware of the oval-shaped cut on it. “It was a graze, Bobby,” you say wearily. “Please, stop shouting.”

“You stop scratching your hand!” he shrieks.

You look down to where you’d been scratching his brain matter off your hand without thinking about it, and you have to resist the urge to rip your brain-stained clothes off, because Bobby needs your help right now and being naked isn’t going to help anything.

“Do you,” oh god, your voice sounds worse than his. “Ahem, do you have scissors or a knife?”

“Refrigerator door, upper right shelf, butter,” he says, and you’ve calmed down enough to hear his tapping.

You stagger to your feet and close your eyes against the sparks that flood your vision. It’s a close call, but eventually you can see again. It takes too long, clearly, because Bobby has managed to scoot his chair closer to you. His shirt’s fallen back over his torso, and you’re not sure whether that’s a blessing or not. There are bruises on his neck, and only now do you realize his bloody ankles are also tied to the front two legs of the chair.

You walk over to the refrigerator feeling like your head is one second away from snapping off your neck entirely, and you let out a hiss of pain when you have to move your shoulder to yank the knife out of the butter. His eyes are soft and concerned when he hears it. You kneel down behind him so he won’t see your tears.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can cut this without cutting you,” not with the way your hands are shaking and you can’t hold his hands steady without feeling like somebody poured scalding hot oil on your shoulder.

“Just do it,” he says.

You apologize when the knife inevitably digs into his palm and arm, but he doesn’t say a word until it’s over, and then he yanks the knife out of your hands and cuts himself out of his ankles more roughly than you would dare to. But he doesn’t stand up.

“Is he dead,” he points the knife to the man lying sprawled on the floor. And oh god, the smell of his fucking brain comes back to you.

“I felt his brain slide between my fingers, Bobby,” you can’t hide the tears anymore. You want to claw your own face off and die.

“Oh god, please stop scratching,” something is pulling your arms down, and something else is touching your face. There’s another voice, but all you want is to stop existing, so when the blackness comes, you let yourself sink into it.