#frat bros

[archer-vale]

Just another night with the bros.

[slagduroc]

Sun, sand, and serious squad goals! NCU fraternity brothers making waves in aqua blue style. 🏖️💙

[ex-frat-man]

[louderthanabombb]

Guys, you ever been passed out drunk around a bunch of other guys and you wake up to discover they have drawn stuff on you? I think that's fucked up. I think it's a form of assault.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

I refuse to believe these three giant frat bros using the word "lepidopterans" while bug hunting as a group are turf bros.

I won't have this. They are bug bros. They love bugs. They are in bug school to protect the bugs.

Apparently the local university’s undergraduate entomology course sends students to catch insect specimens at the same place I like to go birdwatching, which explains why I saw three enormous frat looking dudes with tiny bug nets and overheard one emphatically say “bro BRO I told you we already have enough lepidopterans”

[jbfly46]

Temporarily nationalize landlord assets that meet certain requirements. Give them back after they can prove they can be responsible. Most of these frat dudes actually don’t give a fuck, because they inherited the assets and they hate their family, so they spend most of their time drinking, doing coke, harassing, and date raping women.

[chu-cho]

choso added to the frat mix oh someone save him

[archer-vale]

You think you can hide it? Your eyes...your lips...even your voice sets off the gaydar. One look at you, and it's obvious what you are. Nature created you this way--made it easy for real men to use and exploit your filthy desires.

[cvnntagious]

:: fuckboy!matt loves when innocent!reader kisses his neck

"--have to go." was all you heard before matt stood up from his comfortable spot on your bed, between your legs, searching the mint green comforter splayed on top of it for his phone in an almost frantic manner. your head tilted in confusion, embarrassment washing over you as you lifted your hips to pull the shorts matt had dragged down to your ankles all the way back up your legs.

"d- did i do something wrong?" you asked, brows furrowed in a way that made you practically irresistible to matt.

his eyes instantly flicked up to meet yours, the blue of them practically burning with desire. "wrong?" he echoed, a bit confused himself, "no, no. nothing wrong, s'jus— remembered i gotta handle some shit."

despite his reassuring words, the worry in your eyes never faded as you sat up against your pillows. you had a feeling he'd been avoiding going to the next base with you, but this just confirmed it. did he not actually want you like he claimed? you'd never heard of him having any problems sleeping with any other girls before.

matt could tell by the way you looked at him that his words hadn't convinced you in the slightest, eliciting a long sigh from him. he leaned over the side of your bed, hoovering over you with one of his arms posted on the pillow beside your head. "c'mon, don't be like that," he started, pausing to place a kiss on your forehead, "i'll see ya later, a'ight?"

with a small whine, and lack of a second thought, your arms reached up to wrap around his neck, pulling him into you. a soft gasp from him as your lips placed an open mouthed kiss on his neck had you smiling as your eyes met once more. matt's demeanor had almost completely changed, leaving him smirking above you. "what d'you want from me?" he grumbled out, seemingly questioning himself more than you for some reason.

"huh-?" you started to question, only for matt to place his lips on yours with a passion you'd never seen before.

he trailed kisses from your lips, to your cheek, and down your neck, stopping at your color bone. "it'd be so mean of me to jus' leave y'now, wouldn't it?" he cooed, faux sympathy written all over his face before he kissed your neck again.

w/c : 395

[testoster0ne]

louis by jake o'donnell

[frattystuff]

[occamstfs]

Man Of Your Dreams

Wallflower Dylan is gifted a new psychedelic from his friend. Used to watching frat bros from afar he finds the pill seems to affect far more than his mind.

Intended this to be plot light but so it goes! Probably going to take this week off to avail myself to other authors entering my Viral Transformation Challenge! The next story will likely be my own take on the theme so look forward to that next week alongside those from a litany of other stellar TF writers! Until then! -Occam

Dylan was fairly straight-laced, going into his senior year of university he hadn’t strayed much at all from class besides tagging along with his friend from high school to some of the more boisterous frat parties. Said friend Tony was quite more of a wild child, often invited himself because he was the source of some of the more illicit substances to be found at these parties. He’d invite Dylan whenever he’d need a more sober pair of eyes, namely if he was planning on rolling or otherwise getting high on his own supply. Despite his mild manner, Dylan always hopped on the chance, going to ragers was supposed to be part of the whole college deal right? And besides, he didn’t mind the chance to ogle brazen men he would under normal circumstances be fearful of making eye contact with.

Knowing of his friend’s meek disposition, and repressed hunger for the most vulgar of men, when Tony hears of a crazy new psychedelic on the market he has a feeling Dylan might finally let his hair loose. Reviews say the stuff makes reality feel like a waking dream. Anything seems possible and to your body it might as well be. Steamier sources swear that dreaming about sex on the stuff is even better than the real thing. Tony, never concerned about side effects of his material, gets straight to hitting up the usual channels to see what he can get and is able to scrounge up a single pill of the stuff. He wonders if he should try it out himself first before deciding he owes his friend at least first dibs.

Dylan is floored at how quickly he agreed to taking the pill. After initially being standoffish at Tony’s suggestion that he use it to fuck frat bros in his mind, once his friend started explaining what he’s heard Dylan couldn’t pass up the opportunity to really live out his fantasy. He’s not going to outgrow being a wallflower, nor is at all confident that any of the performatively masculine men would fuck him. Staring at the pill the only thing holding him back is Tony’s vapid instructions. ‘Just have a blast dude, fuck your way through those bros hah!’ Dylan’s asking about the side effects falls on deaf ears as Tony just crassly humps the air to try to convince his friend to go out on a limb. Despite his qualms and fears, and the lack of confidence inspired by Tony’s actions, Dylan feels sure that his friend wouldn’t give him something actually potentially dangerous.

Holding tight to that misplaced confidence, as soon as Tony departs Dylan pours himself a glass of water and chokes the pill down. The small tablet leaves a metallic taste in his mouth, quickly hidden by the copious amount of saliva and bile starting to rise in the back of his throat as he immediately feels the urge to vomit. Man of will despite appearances, he keeps it down and just as soon scowls as he thinks about the lack of preparation offered by his friend and prepares to tear into Tony as soon as the trip is over. Standing up he feels the room spinning around and murmurs in shock, “su- surely it’s shouldn- work this… fas-” He stumbles over to his bed and falls face down as he feels his body growing sweaty.

Before his well-practiced anxiety response can rise his mind is flooded with every pleasant hormone it’s able to produce. Every muscle in his body tenses and he feels his cock struggle to force itself erect in the awkward position he’s fallen in. Dylan moans as every sensation sends signals so intense and potent that his mind can barely maintain consciousness. Indeed he finds himself struggling to even hold his eyes open as his eyelids grow weighty. Even perfunctory bodily functions feel erotic as he begins to fade, the burning of cold air in his stretching lungs, the sound of his own heartbeat and the warmth of blood coursing through his veins. Drool immediately pools under his head as he crests into a stuporous induced unconsciousness, far too unprepared for what awaits him in his trip, and the new world he is to encounter afterwards.

Dylan is sitting in a chair across from a man he knows too well and not at all. Face to face with Ben Harrington, president of Beta Delta Alpha, Dylan has to push down the immediate rush of fear. Taking a breath he reminds himself that this is a dream, one that Tony swears he should have pretty lucid control over. As the president stands opposed, leaning on nothing he flexes his arms and the pastel button up Dylan usually sees him clad in changes into a t-shirt with the sleeves torn off. He smirks as he pushes sunglasses up his face and speaks in a tone intoxicated, under the influence of nothing but Dylan himself. His raspy voice sends a shiver down the meek man’s spine as he feels himself unable to retreat, “So, uhh, Dylan is it?” 

Approaching enough to touch him, Ben puts an arm over Dylan’s shoulder, exposing his clearly unwashed pit. Dylan takes a deep breath and forces his eyes closed from the burning over-stimulation of this man baring down on him. Still, from the sticky breath blowing across the face it's clear he is continuing to inch even closer, “You want me do you?” Dylan gulps as the man gets even closer, Ben’s lips almost touching his own, “Or do you just want to be me?” This takes Dylan out of it as he steps back away from the imposing man. Eyes opening he tries to manipulate the scene as Tony implied he should be able to. The Ben of his mind tilts his head and tsks, “‘Fraid you’re not the one in charge here after all.”

Ben closes the gap once more and throws his arm around the easily manhandled Dylan pulling his body against his own sweat stained form. He smirks and leans in directly to whisper something into the dreamer’s ear, “and if you do really wanna fuck me, well. You’re gonna have to become something more my type. Yeah?” Dylan blinks in surprise, he’s heard of bad trips and the like but something seems decidedly wrong here. Before he’s able to come to any cogent conclusion the dream Ben reaches down his free hand into Dylan’s pants. His sweaty hand instantly wraps around the smaller man’s balls and squeeze. Dylan hasn’t a chance to scream in shock he feels himself lose control. Of his body, his mind, and the world around him as he begins to fall back.

He’s humping the air as he’s falling into an abyss. He doesn’t feel the fear that this descent should evoke. Usually nightmares that turn this way immediately blast him back to consciousness, instead it fills him with adrenaline that only heightens the delight coursing out from his cock. Sure that he’s now laying face down in a pool of his own semen in the real world, Dylan does what he can to focus on the pleasure as intended. 

The sound of wind tearing past him makes him unable to hear his moaning screams as his clothes are shredded by the searing gale. Rapt in delight, the blaring gusts begin to slow. Air caresses him like a full body hug and suddenly he is deposited onto soft ground. Dylan doesn’t quite repose as his body continues convulsing. Cum begins to sprinkle down on him from the plethora of loads released during his descent and he finally finds wherewithal to paw at his crotch. Grasping at his balls he finds them unmistakably larger, “Wha?” No longer falling, Dylan opens his eyes and seems to be back in reality.

Dylan awakens and blearily rubs his eyes with clearly semen stained hands. “Oh what the, ugh- Am I awake?” His eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the lighting of a room that is decidedly not his bedroom. “Can’t be right?” Shaking the mess off his hands without a second thought he stands to his feet with a grunt and feels his cock bobbing, still impossibly rigid. His hands return to this turgid beacon before they almost happenstance fondle his balls. His sluggish mind struggles with how heavy and large they feel, nothing like the ones he has in reality. He smirks as the last words of Ben snake through his mind- “Become something more my type.” Who’d’ve thunk the president was into horndogs.”

Sniffing the air he begins to inspect the room surrounding him. Dirty clothes litter the floor and he finds a pervasive musk filling the air. Something in the back of his mind itches that there should be a can of axe around somewhere to cover it up, which he ignores for a number of reasons. He should be able to will the room to stop stinking. He certainly wouldn't do so with cheap body spray, and for the life of him he can’t bring himself to want to. Each deep breath of the stink he finds himself growing even hornier. Dylan feels his balls churning as he grasps them, he’s already cum a good number of times and yet he still craves release. 

He imagines the firm ass of a frat brother and leans against his dresser he uncontrollably begins to hump once more. Something flickers at the back of his mind yet again and he rips into an open drawer. Throwing clothes onto the pile of dirtied garments already littering the floor, Dylan removes a fleshlight which he proceeds to make exuberant use of. No time for his mind to question why he’s suddenly a top as his cock fills the sex toy more with every grunting thrust. 

Pubes scratch against his thumb as his crotch shifts into one that would instantly render a razor unusable. Likewise hair that has never even had to be controlled on his ass begins to thicken, growing itchy as a true jungle of curls begins to flourish on both sides of his waist. Soon enough his cock grows large enough that the toy is rendered unusable, with a furrowed brow and ungrateful grunt he tosses it to his room leaving it dripping on the floor as he somehow remains just as sexually unfulfilled as when he began, “Fuck I need the real thing…”

The real thing not present Dylan looks down at his cock and gasps as he sees what has become of his package. He doesn’t have a ton of sex but he usually keeps it clean and pretty hairless down there just for his own sake. Beyond the forest of pubes thick enough to get his hand stuck in, he covers his mouth in shock as he sees a veiny cock larger than he’s ever seen on a man with the low hanging massive balls to match. He does his best to focus up on anything besides how horny he is, but as pre continues to trickle from his hardened cock that becomes increasingly difficult. He bites his lip and looks past his throbbing cock at the floor. If he puts it away perhaps it’ll quiet of its own accord.

Dylan doesn’t pay heed to which clothes are clean or dirty as he throws on whatever best could hide his cock from his hands and mind. Nor could he notice just how far cleanliness and decency have fallen as priorities for him as he struggles to fit his package in clearly stained sweatpants. Itching at his waist as his pubes begin creeping up into a treasure trail racing to mee the spreading curls beginning to decorate his chest, his dull awareness finally notices that his whole body has begun changing. His thin arms have clearly put on powerful muscle from his mindless sessions of self-love, veins trailing down them make it difficult for him not to get straight back to masturbating at the thought of his own strength.

Similarly his eyes latch onto a chest that has somehow exploded into pecs without his knowing. Muscle that has never begun to grace his body now jiggles with every movement. He clenches his jaw hard trying to muster willpower not to give into his most basal urges, but as he feels his thighs fill the sweatpants he just threw on he wonders how long he could possibly hold out. His cluttered mind struggles to recall that he is on some kind of psychedelic trip as he fails to remember how long Tony said it would last. Instead swimming through dulling memories the voice of his, er, the frat president speaks up. “Ah god… You’re looking fucking good Big D. How’s your mind hangin’ in there?”

It takes a few moments for the words to sink in before Dylan can reply, “My, unh- mind?” His balls pulse as his eyes dash across the room while he struggles to think. God he’s been struggling to think this whole time. His cock lurches as he’s able to realize that every thought in his mind has been growing increasingly clouded. “Big D?” Dylan can’t help but smirk as his beyond impressive cock strains his sweatpants at being called Big D. He grunts as he tries to shake off the lusty delirium, “Need to chill out. Ugh. Sober up.” He hears the president tsk at him yet again, waiting with bated breath for the mans words his pecs bulge even larger on his chest. “Too late for that bro, just give in. Why have a trip into true unadulterated ecstasy when you can have a lifetime. You can finally be the man of your dreams.” 

As soon as the words of Ben, his president, are spoken in his mind it becomes clear that Big D doesn’t even have the ability to fight back against the ever-present urges that now control his body. He tears off the sweatpants that were barely holding in there as he fully give himself to whatever is calling out for him, the drug, Ben Harrington, whatever. His body bulks beyond measure to become man enough to carry the vulgar package that lies in his crotch. He masturbates into the leg of his sweatpants torn asunder as his torso bulks up, evidence of his endless celebrations as a man of Beta Delta Alpha.

Bestial body hair begins to cover his torso as his beard grows thick and dark. The tangle of hair in his pits thickens and spreads enough that it, nor it’s dominating musk, could ever be hidden. Muscle bulges on his arms large enough to haul kegs and toss out fuckers that get to rowdy at their festivities. Beyond apathetic to manicuring his appearance as he knows he’ll have people lining up at his doorstep regardless of needless things like hygiene or cleanliness he rubs his thick sweat covered thighs and feels how sensitive every inch of his skin has become. 

He smirks as he imagines, recalls rather, how constantly he gets to enjoy the sensual opportunities offered by his new form. He’s got all he needs dangling between his thick thighs and everyone who matters already knows it. The president certainly does. Big D smirks as he thinks of their vacations together on the frat’s dime. He puts his arms behind his head and sniffs his musky pits as he lays in repose, a thick cloud of musky sweat surrounds him as he begins to hear the sound of festivities breaking out on the floor below him and someone’s fervent footsteps racing up the stairs to his den.

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and Big D imagines that some couple is looking for an empty room with urgency. He paws at his crotch excited to join in on their fun. Instead he sees some nervous looking guy who freezes as soon as he sees the behemoth, fear in his eyes. “D-Dylan!? I- That drug, there was something, something s-” He stutters and his hands shake as Big D rolls his eyes and stands almost two heads taller than he should over Tony, one of their frat’s little party drug dealers. Still, he wouldn’t have come up here for no reason. Big D silences him with a finger and slams the door shut behind him. Tony’s brow furrows as he looks around the room in confusion. Even his perpetually drug-addled mind can tell something unreal, something impossible has happened to his friend. “That pill can’t have done this right?” Tony takes nervous breaths and Big D’s musk rapidly fills his lungs, distracting him from whatever petty issue brought him in. Who cares about concern when his small cock is beginning to rise from simply standing near the priapic titan.

Big D’s voice rumbles through Tony, making him weak at the knees, “You wanna have some fun don’t you?” The drug dealer can’t help but nod and swallow the drool pooling in his mouth as the bestial Adonis stands over him, cock dripping ever-ready for another round. Tony isn’t sure if he’s started tripping himself or what, but as he begins making out with the frat bro he finds himself not minding as memories of whoever Dylan was disappear. After all pleasure is the most important thing, and no one is better at spreading heady delight than Big D.

[realbadatpoker]

We do "agile" at work and, personally, I think formalized communications is a great way to coordinate a complex team effort, however, every fucking thing we do has a name that was clearly invented by a bunch of frat bros competing to come up with the douchiest buzzword bullshit imaginable and I'm never saying that shit.

[chu-cho]

frat wip

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮! 𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓽𝓼, 𝓪 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂, 𝓫𝓵𝓾𝓻𝓫𝓼, 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝓸𝓸𝓭𝓫𝓸𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓼

Week 1 - “X”

𝙿𝚘𝚛𝚗𝙳𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🔪 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

🔪“𝐗” - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

written with @shawtycoreee

Week 2 - “You”

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🔪 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

🔪 𝐘𝐨𝐮. - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

written with @nadvs

Week 3 - “AHS 1984” <- “Camp Kill - A Rafe Cameron Short Story”

𝙱𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🔪 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

🔪 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥 - 𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

🔪 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥 - 𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

🔪 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥 - 𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

𝙳𝙸𝙻𝙵!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🔪 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

🔪 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

Week 4 - “The Purge”

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🔪 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

🔪 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞 - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

written with @starkeyisthelastname

Week 5 - “Scream”

𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝙹𝙹 𝚡 𝙶𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🔪 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

🔪 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 + 𝐉𝐉)

🔪 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 + 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

🔪 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐏!𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

Created with @rafesthroatbaby

Extras 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎

𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔

edit by @/halfmoonkie

[inkzectz]

tough guy