#bro con

[misschimotosuwa-blog]

Guys, I just wanna share some useless knowledge. But for some reason I decided to count the rays of light on the Bro Con Sunrise Residence symbol...

and there's 13!!! 1 for each brother. I just thought that was cool symbolism.

@hellcatinnc @protags-fic-blog

[knockknockwhosthereartistism]

Bills attempt of manipulating Stan via Alex Hirsch

Alex talking about scrapped idea of Bill attempting to make a deal with Stan^^^

[prokopetz]

One of these days some enterprising con artist is going to make up a fake quirky little sci-fi movie, claim that it's been fully produced but Warner Bros. permanently shelved it for a tax writeoff, raise a couple million dollars in crowdfunding to "buy back the rights", then disappear off the face of the planet and take the money with them, and they'll 100% get away with it because really, who are we going to believe?

[bowlifecomics]

Why do people insist on playing as your gender. Baloney

[slavhew]

Something's missing

[derekhighwaytf]

Welcome to the Team, Bro

TW: Misogyny, Homophobia

Your twenty-first birthday had been going absolutely perfect. Of course, you’d surrounded yourself with all your closest friends, all girls, obvi.  Drunk off cheap grocery store champagne being sipped out of red solo cups, you all continued laughing and enjoying your annual birthday roast, regardless of how uncomfortable everyone was stuffed onto your small college apartment couch. It was all in the name of light-hearted fun—typical jokes about how you wear the tightest of clothes, how you seem to have retained more Sex and the City quotes than anyone else alive, and of course, your nonexistent love life with guys. The usual, nothing that cut too deep. You laughed along, leaning back in your chair, feeling comfortable and safe being with your gal pals.

But then the door swung open, and Levi, Jessica’s ultra jock boyfriend, walks in. The room goes completely silent for just a second, the atmosphere shifting rapidly. Levi, an absolute douchebro, is the kind of frat guy who dominated a space just by existing. Tall, muscular, and that same cocky grin permanently plastered on his face. He saunters into your living room like it was his own frat house.

"Hey, birthday boy!" Jessica teases, giving you a nudge. "Levi asked me if he could take a turn roasting you. He says it’s good practice for his stand-up career.  Can you please let him go up?  I promise he won’t say anything too horrible."

You blink. ‘What on earth could Levi even say?  He doesn’t even know me?!’ you think to yourself. The other girls exchanged worried glances. The guy’s not exactly known for being subtle or sensitive, but before you can protest, Levi stepped towards the middle of the room, cracking his knuckles as he sized you up.

"So this is our little birthday bitch, huh?" His voice booms, loud and commanding. He stands in front of you, creepily grinning as he looks you up and down your skinny, twinkish frame. "Man, look at you. You’re such a fucking stick. Bet you couldn’t lift up a five pound weight, even if your life depended on it. What, a gust of wind gonna blow you over, fag?"

The girls laugh sporadically, forcing a chuckle just to try and relieve the tension. But as the words leave Levi’s mouth, a hot, uncomfortable sensation ripples through your body, and out of nowhere, you feel a tightness push itself against your pale skin. You glance down and your eyes widen—your biceps are swelling, your pecs thickening themselves into two smooth mounds of man meat. Muscles you’ve never even fathomed having in your life start to form, bulging out of your once-slender frame. Your shirt strains at the seams as your chest broadens to it’s sides, your chest pushing forward until they’re massive, rock-hard slabs, rivaling the tits of your girlfriends.

"Whoa, dude... what the hell are you saying, man?" you mutter, your voice suddenly much, much deeper, almost as deep as Levi’s.

The girls gasp, their eyes widening in shock, but Levi just keeps going, pretending to be unaware of what’s happening to the poor boy.

"But you know what?" Levi grins, his tone dripping with smugness. "I bet you’re the kinda guy who’s so obsessed with looking good that you wouldn’t even know what it means to get truly dirty, huh? Probably shower three times a day, all prim and proper. Nah, man. A real dude doesn’t give a shit about smelling fresh.  Real men smell like bulls.”

As soon as he says it, a wave of heat rolls through you again. This time, it’s not just gonna stay inside yourself, no. It’s... in your gut. A thick, rumbling pressure builds up more and more inside you, and before you can stop it, a loud, wet burp escapes your mouth. 

BRRRRRRRP!!

The girls squeal in disgust, but it doesn’t stop there. A loud, long fart rips through the air, and the smell is rank—sweaty, cheese, and 100% pure man odor.

PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT!

Your armpits start to sweat profusely, staining your rapidly shrinking tank top shirt, and the once-fresh Polo cologne you had on is completely overpowered by the raw, animal scent of your dick stink. You can feel your skin getting greasy, and when you scratch your balls—without even thinking about it—they itch more, like you haven’t showered in days and you can’t help but touch it more and more.

"Ugh, gross!" one of the girls groans, wrinkling her nose. But as she pulls away, her eyes, they…change. Like she can’t stop glancing at your new Adonis body, completely disregarding, maybe even enjoying the smell. And she’s not the only one. All your former “gal pals” are starting to shake and whisper amongst themselves, their giggles turning into flirtatious murmurs, their shirts opening up as if he thermostat had been turned up to a hundred.

Levi leans in closer, his grin growing wider. "But hey, it’s not just about the looks, right? I bet this little fucker still can’t get laid to save his life. Probably jerks off to Tumblr stories every night instead of actually getting some pussy. Pfft. Bet he couldn’t handle a real girl if he tried."

Something snaps in your formerly gold star brain. You’ve always been gay, but now, that feels... weird. Incorrect.  Immoral.  Suddenly, the thought of even just hugging another guy seems wrong, as if you were worried you could catch gayness. Your eyes flicker over to Jessica and the others, and a new heat ignites inside your groin. Your mouth waters at the sight of your friend’s curves, their massive cleavage, their clean shaven legs. You want to be inside them. You need to be.

Memories shift. Nights spent dreaming about guys and writing fanfictions about male celebrities blur and twist into hazy recollections of fucking girls—lots of girls. So many, you couldn’t even remember one of their names.  You can taste their pussies, hear their moans. Your cock twitches in your pants, straining against the fabric of your newly materialized gym shorts as you stare at the girls who used to be just your friends. Now, they’re more than that. They’re... opportunities.  Sluts, ready for the taking.

"Fuck you asshole, I get laid all the fuckin’ time," you hear yourself shout, your voice deeper, more arrogant, your words rolling out in laughter like they’ve always been true. The girls giggle, blushing and shooting you lingering glances, clearly wanting your dick in their mouths. All of them. And in the pit of your stomach, you know they’ll all be yours by the end of the night.

Levi laughs, clapping you on the back. "Now that’s more like it, stud!" He steps back, crossing his arms, admiring his work "But let’s be real, this guy just thinks far too much, huh? He’s always overanalyzing shit, worrying about dumb stuff. A real bro doesn’t waste his time thinking. Just acts. Bet this guy’s head is still full of that nerdy fag crap."

You feel a sharp, dull shot of pain go through your head like a bullet, as if half of it is being yanked out. Your vision swims around the transforming frat room of breasts, and suddenly, it’s hard to think—like there’s a deep fog settling over your brain, clouding everything, mushing it into a few simple desires. The things you once knew—your studies, your hobbies, your passions—fade away, replaced by simpler, more immediate thoughts. Working out. Fucking. Drinking beer. All the things that matter to a real man.

The last thing to go is the memory of who you used to be. That skinny, smart, gay kid? Gone. Replaced by the image of you as a dumb, horny jock, the kind of guy who lives for the gym and pussy. The kind of guy who doesn’t need to think—because he already knows he’s the shit.

You blink, grinning stupidly at Levi, feeling the last vestiges of your old self disappear. "Yo, bro, I ain’t no faggot. Hey, where the fuck’s the beer at? We gotta get shwasted, man."

The girls are all over you now, practically throwing themselves at you. And why wouldn’t they? You’re hot as fuck, and you need to dump your cum in their needy holes.  You’re gonna make these formally open-minded liberal intellectuals into perfect American mothers.

"That’s my boy," Levi laughs, handing you a beer. "Welcome to the team, bro."

[minalots]

so about that book…

[erabu-san]

Tighnari doodles (that's surprising)

And sethos wip

[stonedstr8]

TOKE 'N STROKE

"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"

He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.

Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.

Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"

He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"

Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."

Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"

"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.

"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.

A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"

After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.

"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.

Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...

...

When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.

When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.

"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.

Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"

After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."

*PHRRRBBBTTT!*

His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.

"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.

"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.

"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.

Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"

"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.

Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."

Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"

*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*

Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.

As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.

"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.

Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.

[fratttymatty]

Tricked Ya Bro

(All characters are 18+)

Logan Andrews adjusted his glasses and stared at the open textbook in front of him, though the chaos of the cafeteria made it hard to focus. At Dalton High, he was used to sitting alone at the farthest table, clutching his AP History notes and munching on a soggy sandwich. As a gay, nerdy, liberal 20-year-old, Logan had long accepted his place at the bottom of the social hierarchy.

At the opposite end of the cafeteria sat Dylan Carter, the epitome of high school glory. With his chiseled jawline, golden tan, and a varsity jacket slung over his broad shoulders, Dylan was everything Logan wasn’t—popular, athletic, and cocky. The star quarterback and the king of the jocks, Dylan always had a crowd of cheerleaders and teammates around him, laughing at his jokes and basking in his presence.

So when Dylan approached Logan’s table that day, Logan’s heart practically stopped.

“Hey, uh, Logan, right?” Dylan said, flashing his movie-star grin.

Logan blinked, clutching his sandwich like it was a life raft. “Y-Yeah. That’s me.”

“Cool,” Dylan said, sliding into the seat across from him. “Listen, I’ve kinda noticed you around, and I think you’re, like, pretty cute.”

Logan’s jaw dropped. Was this a prank? It had to be. But Dylan’s smile seemed genuine, and his blue eyes sparkled with something Logan couldn’t quite place.

“Are you serious?” Logan asked cautiously.

“Totally,” Dylan said, leaning in. “How about we hang out this weekend? Just the two of us.”

Logan’s face turned scarlet, but he nodded. “I-I’d like that.”

For the next week, Logan lived in a dream. Dylan picked him up after school, took him out for burgers, and even invited him to watch football practice. Logan couldn’t believe it—Dylan Carter, the most popular guy in school, was into him.

But on Friday night, everything changed. Dylan invited Logan over to his house, promising they’d have the place to themselves. Logan arrived nervously, clutching a bouquet of flowers.

Dylan greeted him at the door, but this time, his usual charm was gone.

“Come on in,” Dylan said, his tone strangely flat.

Logan followed him into the living room, where Dylan suddenly turned and crossed his arms. “Alright, I’ve got something to tell you.”

Logan froze. “What’s going on?”

Dylan smirked, and for the first time, it wasn’t friendly—it was cold. “I’m not gay, dude. Never was. This whole week? Just a joke.”

Logan felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. “W-What? Why would you do that?”

“Because it’s hilarious,” Dylan said, laughing cruelly. “I mean, look at you. Did you really think someone like me would be into... that?” He gestured vaguely at Logan, his face twisted with disdain.

Logan’s eyes filled with tears, but before he could respond, Dylan pulled a strange device from his pocket—a small, glowing orb.

“Don’t worry, though,” Dylan said, his smirk widening. “I’ve got a better idea. I’m gonna help you out, bro. Make you someone who actually fits in.���

“W-What are you talking about?” Logan stammered, backing away.

Dylan pressed a button on the orb, and it erupted with light, engulfing Logan in a wave of energy.

When Logan came to, he felt... different. Gone were his baggy clothes and thin frame. His arms were thick and muscular, his chest broad, and his reflection in the mirror across the room revealed a tan, chiseled jawline and perfectly styled hair.

“Dude, check yourself out!” Dylan said, clapping him on the back. “You’re a whole new man now.”

Logan blinked, his mind foggy. “What the... What happened to me?”

“You’re one of us now,” Dylan said. “No more of that nerd crap. You’re Liam Grant, star linebacker, ladies’ man, and my best bro.”

Logan—no, Liam—stared at his reflection, and as the seconds passed, his confusion melted away. He ran a hand through his hair and grinned. “Damn, I look good.”

“Hell yeah, you do,” Dylan said. “Now let’s get you a girlfriend.”

By Monday, the transformation was complete. Liam Grant walked through the halls of Dalton High with an easy swagger. His old life was a distant memory, and he couldn’t care less about politics, books, or anything remotely “nerdy.” He spent his days in the weight room, his nights partying, and his weekends on the football field.

He’d also picked up a girlfriend—Kelsey Parker, a bubbly cheerleader with long blonde hair and a penchant for giggling at everything he said.

“You’re, like, the hottest guy ever,” Kelsey said one afternoon, clinging to his arm as they walked past the lockers.

“I know, babe,” Liam said, smirking. “What can I say? I’m just that good.”

As he high-fived Dylan and joined the rest of the jocks at their table, Liam felt like he’d finally found his place. The nerdy, awkward kid he’d once been was gone, replaced by someone who fit perfectly into the world of Dalton High’s elite.

And Liam Grant wouldn’t have it any other way.

By the next week Liam Grant strutted through the halls of Dalton High with an effortless confidence that felt entirely natural now. His tan, muscular frame turned heads wherever he went, and he revelled in the attention. At lunch, he joined Dylan and the rest of the jocks at their usual table, where the atmosphere was rowdy and full of testosterone-fuelled banter.

“Yo, bro, you coming to the party Friday night?” Dylan asked, tossing a football from hand to hand.

“Hell yeah,” Liam said, grinning as he leaned back in his chair, his arm draped casually around Kelsey. “Wouldn’t miss it. Gonna be sick.”

“Just make sure none of those GSA weirdos show up,” Dylan said, wrinkling his nose. “I swear, it’s bad enough they’re trying to put up rainbow posters all over the school.”

Liam snorted. “Right? Like, nobody wants to see that crap. They need to just keep it to themselves.”

Kelsey giggled, playing with her blonde curls. “It’s, like, so gross. Why do they think we want to hear about their, like, personal lives?”

“Exactly,” Liam said, shaking his head. “It’s not normal, you know? Guys should be into girls, plain and simple.” He leaned over to kiss Kelsey, making an exaggerated show of it, and the table erupted in laughter and cheers.

As a smaller, more timid student walked past their table, Dylan nudged Liam. “Yo, isn’t that Joey? He’s in that LGBTQ club or whatever.”

Liam smirked. “Hey, Joey!” he called out loudly, his voice dripping with mockery. “Looking fabulous today, bro! Love the shirt—did you steal it from your boyfriend?”

The table roared with laughter, and Joey flushed red, hurrying away without saying a word.

“Man, I don’t know how they walk around like that,” Dylan said, shaking his head. “Like, do they think anyone actually respects them?”

Liam shrugged, popping a chip into his mouth. “They’re probably just jealous ‘cause no one’s ever gonna want them. Not like us, anyway.”

The jocks howled with laughter, their confidence bolstered by the reactions of everyone around them.

Later that week, Liam and Dylan showed up at the biggest party of the year, hosted by one of the cheerleaders. The house was packed with students, the music blaring, and red Solo cups being passed around like candy.

“Yo, this party’s lit,” Liam said, clinking his cup against Dylan’s.

“Damn right,” Dylan said, scanning the crowd. “This is what it’s all about, bro. None of that nerdy, activist crap you used to waste your time on.”

“Don’t even remember any of that,” Liam said, grinning. “Feels like it happened to someone else.”

“Exactly,” Dylan said, smirking. “You’re one of us now, man. Ain’t no room in this world for losers who care about that social justice junk. We’re winners.”

“Hell yeah,” Liam said, downing his drink. “And winners don’t waste time on people who don’t matter.”

The two high-fived, basking in the glow of their new world.

[dumb-dog-dyke]

big sis coming into my room while i’m lying on my tummy in bed watching a show. not being able to resist turning the volume way up and pinning me down with a hand over my mouth, yanking my boxers down and sliding her cock into my cunt with ease - i’m just too desperate for her and her little sibling’s pussy feels so good

[strawlessandbraless]

Not the hero we deserve, but the hero we need

[retrogamingblog2]

Nintendo Switch Arcade Cabinets made by AVEcustoms

[10thmusemoon]

You know how fics will have SY/SJ show up and be like “yeah that’s my bro, we were separated as children [aggressive eye contact at YQY]” with the full expectation that he’ll play along

Can you imagine the inverse happening though?

Idk maybe SY transmigrates into Xuan Su or something and cultivates a form to Advance the Plot. Suddenly a YQY clone shows up, wearing the same kindly face but dripping with sarcasm, claiming they’re brothers?

Shen Jiu would nearly Qi deviate at the first “ge” from Shen yuan’s mouth. He would be stalking Qiong ding peak to try to uncover whatever scheme this is before yqy is taken advantage of. LBH avoids his fate simplicity because SQQ is too busy stewing in jealousy, fury, and self loathing at the audacity of being replaced by some doppelgänger.

(There’s the secret fourth emotion at suddenly seeing two YQY’s who are just so comfortable with physical touch…)

It wouldn’t take long for SQQ to try to corner yqy to bully the truth out of him, only for SY to intercept at every step because he’s all too aware of YQY’s weak spot for this man. Meanwhile airplane is having a heart attack because WHOMST THE FUCK is that?? He didn’t authorize this Mary Stu shit?!! (When he discovers its peerlesscucumber he 100% thinks they’ve transmigrated into his self insert fic of pidw)

No one is having a good time except maybe LQG who suddenly has a new free shixiong to sniff around.

[dragonpyre]

Had fun at Rose City. Even got to meet some other Jason’s!

Also; Chip Zdarksy

[blogitalianissimo]