#hooligan tf

[ki-kink]

could you transform joshua kimmich - the german soccer player and mr. nice guy - into a criminal?

Joshua was coming from a press and telephone appointment. Flawless as always, perfectly prepared, a flawless performance. But towards the end of the appointment, he lost his concentration. Shit, he needed a cigarette. And the questions from the press were getting on his nerves. He felt more like smashing the face of one of the guys than answering the same old questions about Bayern Munich's chances in the German championship. How should he know? He didn't give a shit about Bayern. Fucking soccer millionaires! What did soccer mean to them? Or the fans?

Jo was a hardcore hooligan at Energie Cottbus. Soccer was a big part of his life. But even more important to him was the third half. Proper brawls with the opposing fans. And then boozing until you passed out. He loved his life!

[octuscle]

Experience abroad

Daichi was more than pissed off when he finally arrived at his shabby Airbnb in south London. He had been looking forward to the two semesters abroad. He had been looking forward to making new friends and improving his English. But when he arrived at his small apartment and opened his suitcase, he immediately realized that something was wrong. Instead of his carefully folded clothes and personal belongings, he found the rough, dark clothes of a skinhead. All stuffed into the suitcase rather than packed. And everything smelled of cigarettes, beer and sweat. The journey had been exhausting enough… And now this!

It was late. Daichi had been on his feet for over 36 hours. He had sat next to a screaming toddler during the flight. All he wanted to do was sleep. The last thing he noticed before he fell asleep was that smell. That male smell�� He was dreaming wildly. A collage of boots, bomber jackets, but also brass knuckles, broken noses and soccer stadiums. It was still dark when he woke up all sweaty. He had slept naked. Naked except for the Prince Albert through his glans. Shit! He had no piercings. Daichi took his cock in his hand. Confused at first, but also somehow fascinated. The boots, the heavy jeans, the bomber jacket… And now the piercing. It was all so different from what he knew. Out of curiosity and perhaps a little out of a sense of adventure, he put on the clothes. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he felt strangely powerful and self-confident. It was a feeling he had never experienced before, and he liked it.

Even though he could have sworn the apartment was clean yesterday, there was now a full ashtray on the kitchen table. There were beer cans in the sink. He shook the cans. There was obviously something left in one of them. Stale and warm. It tasted like piss. He loved it. And he needed a cigarette to go with it. One of the butts in the ashtray looked as if he could get a few more puffs out of it. He felt a Zippo in his trouser pocket. Engraved on it was a stylized picture of a young man hanging on a cross. But no Jesus. The young man was wearing jeans, suspenders and boots. And was shaved bald.

Smoking and finishing his beer, Daichi inspected the apartment. He had been too tired yesterday. There were also full ashtrays on the floor next to the sofa, which was covered in burn holes, and on the bedside table. There were exhausted butts on the floor in the dirty bathroom. He had to piss. He wouldn't even sit on the dirty toilet to take a shit. But flip up the toilet seat? Shit, for losers! It felt good to have his impressive cock with the scrotal ladder and the PA in his hand and to shoot the yellow, steaming stream into the bowl. Everything felt good. Good and right.

Damn, he had to have more butts somewhere. A couple of hi-viz jackets and his bomber jackets hung on the coat rack. He patted the pockets. Thank God! He found an almost full packet in one jacket. He looked at his cell phone. It was 03:30. Saturday morning shit, and he was home. How pathetic! He put on the jacket in which he had found the cigarettes and left the apartment.

He liked the way the boots sounded on the asphalt. The boots were great anyway. They gave him strength and self-confidence. There weren't many people left on the street. However, he noticed that the people he met treated him differently - with a mixture of respect and fear. Daichi felt like he was being remote-controlled. He knew where he wanted to go. The club's neon sign flickered. A few mates stood outside the door, smoking and drinking beer. One evening, he was approached by a group of men who were also dressed like this. He greeted them with a curt "Oi", his mates nodded and respectfully stepped aside. Daichi was not necessarily known as a thug. But it was well known that it was better not to mess with him.

Daichi loved the club. Nowhere else was the air so impregnated with pure testosterone. Not even in the boxing gym where he trained his muscles every evening after work collecting garbage. And what was missing there was the additional stench of tobacco smoke, beer and piss. It was no longer necessarily full. But well-filled. The usual guys at the bar. They exchanged a few sentences about the latest soccer results, boxing matches and the pissers at the welfare office. But that wasn't why Daichi was here. His cock hadn't gone completely soft since he'd woken up. But here it was getting hard again, very hard. And he knew that a whole bunch of guys had moved in the direction of the piss chutes since his appearance. Another beer, and his bladder was ready to baptize a few of his new victims.

05:30. Slowly, the club emptied. Daichi's bladder and balls were also emptied. One last beer. It was time to go to bed. A few more hours of sleep. And then off to the stadium. The pissers from the opposing fan block were just waiting to make the acquaintance of his fists.

Inspiration by @felinefur0502

Pics by @ki-kink

[grandgoateehotgay]

gay muscle horny fetish smoking

[octuscle]

You go to your barber. Like every Thursday evening. Trim your tips, trim your eyebrows, the usual. So that on Friday you can start the weekend as perfectly as ever. But today your barbershop has changed. The music is louder and rockier. Golden trophies on the walls. A golden jersey, autographed. Also by you. A fan club flag hangs on the wall. It smells of cigarettes and alcohol. Maybe it's time to find a new barber… But you're attached to Mateo. Mateo has been cutting your hair since you were a sophomore in high school. “Hey, bro, take a seat in chair 3, Mat will be right with you,” the guy at the counter calls out to you. Irritated, you sit down in chair 3. The service has been better… But okay, Mateo is going to wash your hair in a minute and put you into a trance with a scalp massage. You lean back and start to relax. Someone vigorously runs their hand through your blonde hair. It smells like cigarettes. A lot! You look up. Holy shit! Yes, that's Mateo. With a shaved head, piercings and tattoos all over. A cigarette in his mouth. “Dude, the usual?” he asks without taking the cigarette out of his mouth. Ash falls on your hair. You are too surprised to say, ‘No, thanks, I'd better go,’ even though your whole body is screaming for escape! You nod. ‘I've got a new shampoo, dude. Awesome shit!’ Mateo starts washing your hair. The shampoo smells of cigars, musk and sweat. You feel sick. Mateo flicked the cigarette away, stubbed out the butt on the floor and asked if you mind if he smokes another. As if in a trance, you answered, “Only if you light one for me too!” Damn, that feels good. Mateo took out the clippers and ran them through your long hair. Anyway, as long as you smoke and can chat with him about soccer. Mat asks if he should refresh your perm. “Nah, no dough, dude!” you reply. “Gotta wait till I get my welfare again.”

Golden Ultras get a haircut from Mat for three pounds. That includes a bottle of beer and a few fags. No wonder you and the other hooligans from the fan club always come here. Hell, he even makes you look good. The boys on the pitch deserve the hottest fans!

Smoking can seriously damage your health. But it's hard to avoid smoking. And the consequences of smoking are also unavoidable. Many thanks to @ki-kink for the picture!

Hey bro! You may have gotten my teammate but you won´t ever get me and my strong body. I may be a bit dumb but you won't ever succumb to the disgusting malboro.

If you really think I am going to write stories for ever single one of you, think again. I write the things I want and not what a bunch of pretty boys in golden outfits tell me to.

Good day.

P.S. we are not "Bros" and never will be.

[uwu-scraptrappy]

I'm bored and I don't wanna eep so I'm hitting you guys with some silly sad AND 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 headcanons for xrayshipping

Silly, sweet, and sad:

Zep runs pretty hot while Logan runs cold, so cuddle sessions between the two often neutralize the other's temperature

Logan likes to make poorly drawn anime style drawings of Zep on MS Paint, and Zep keeps them all

In the initial falling in love stage, Logan went through two stages of denial. The first being that he was bisexual, considering he thought he was straight because he loved his wife deeply and had never experimented with men before. The second being that he felt that, even though Christine was dead, that he was somehow betraying her by loving Zep.

To this day, Zep sometimes envies Christine for being Logan's first love. He may have his heart now, but Christine has it first.

Logan affectionately calls Zep a "strange critter". It's also what he has him saved on his phone as.

Other nicknames for Zep include Shep, honey bun, little sheep, love bug, baby, and more.

They're BOTH yappers. They love talking so much omg.

Zep sometimes takes Melissa out to parks and arcades just to spend time with her, considering she's basically a stepdaughter to him (and also because he feels guilty for what he did to Diana)

They like to send pictures of things that remind them of each other throughout the day.

Zep once cried after Logan sent a picture of a lamb with the caption "it's you!"

Logan is already pretty traumatized after what happened to Christine, so after the incident with Zep almost dying in the bathroom Logan's been living in constant fear that something's going to happen to him :(

Although Zep fell first, Logan definitely fell harder.

If they're not at work, taking care of Melissa, or off doing their own thing, they WILL be curled up at each other's side

Physical touch is both of their love language, but Logan's love language is also words of affirmation and Zep's is acts of service

𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂:

Actually hold on someone else had the idea of service top Zep with dominant bottom Logan and I'm OBSESSED??? canon write that fanfic IMMEDIATELY!!!!!!!!!

Zep likes experimenting in the bedroom, as we all know he's a little freak. Logan, on the other hand, isn't as freaky but he'll try anything once

They're both very talkative in bed, often telling each other how much they love them and how attractive they are

Logan prefers it soft and gentle, and although Zep doesn't, he loves being able to pamper Logan and treat him like a prince.

They once tried doing it in a storage closet and Lawrence accidentally walked in on them. Lawrence stopped talking to Logan for an entire month after that.

Zep would be like "I wish I was dead so you could be inside me in the most intimate way possible" and Logan would have to be like "okay"

Aughhh guys they just love each other so much they're my (second) favorite little freaks 🥺🥺🥺

[final-milf-ratchet]

Cyberverse Bumblebee x BugBite, I read one Rarepair Drabble and it’s had me in a chokehold ever since, thoughts on such dynamic?

Okay u can't just say that and not drop the fic/author name!!! How am I supposed to be obsessed with them if u don't????

Anyway. Confession time. I have not watched cyberverse. The animation..... I love the designs and the way they do Cybertron! But the way they animate them makes me cringe for some reason. If only I had someone to force me to watch it all the way through 🥺🥺

For you though, anon, I looked up all bug bites scenes to watch them! And I love this fucker!!! Him and his cringefail gang!!!! I didn't know soundblaster had a southern accent and I love it so much!

Okay since bugbite has like no backstory that means my canon now >:). Hey hey what if they had a thing™ before the war. Like a 'we sleep together and hang out all the time but we are not talking about our feelings' thing. Bugbite's always been a bit of a rude bastard but y'know, it's kinda funny when they're your friend!

And then the war started and everything kinda fell apart :) bumblebee was with the autobots and bugbite took the first ship off Cybertron and ended up joining the Mercenaries :))))

[foxesonstilts]

going to a concert in amsterdam and am as always mystified and deeply amused by the difference in cultural acceptance of drinking alcohol on public transport between netherlands and germany

[stelashe]

Ogni volta che becco un italiano qui è un """oppresso""" del sud(o del nord/toscana che odia se stesso e tutta la gente troppo vicina alle alpi perché lui/lei/voi è speciale uwu) che insulta la gente del nord(generale ma ovunque è Milano citylife si sa siamotuttisa*vini) a caso ....mi ricorda qualcuno.

[sevs-corner]

Here i am giggling and kicking my feet over the idea of navy! reader being so at odds with the Tf 141 squad being army. (let's just imagine that they're either back to being cadets or they're visiting officers or part of an older class.)

You, a newly enrolled student at the Navy Academy, quickly got the attention of the four while they were stationed at the nearby army base (quite literally in the same area-- considered as close neighbors to the academy who are quite often at each others throats) for having already oustanding records as just a plebe.

And they wanted to recruit you to their lil' party troupe over at the army. (More like kidnapped 'cause they could use you more effectively at the army compared to the muppets and hooligans they ended up training and getting into their squadrons.)

But as they try coercing you at first, you firmly deny them- despite them holding authority over you and can get transferred with the amount of strings they can pull to make it happen, but they don't.

Because they want to see you do it willingly.

You, on the other hand, simply take it as another challenge to "BEAT ARMY" at every opportune moment. To see them crushed beneath the feet of someone who had trained for this very moment in your life-- and you're not just going to let that one chance go in place for canoodling with a bunch of silly army soldiers.

And seeing the fire of contest in your eyes made them accept your challenge, that-- until the day of your graduation-- whoever has the most points by that time, you would either stay in the Navy or work for them and their squad in the army.

Oh, just imagine the amount of unnecessary squabbles that would get you in trouble for by sneaking over to their academy and dorm room (and vice versa) to settle disputes in either card games, gun ranges, push-up counts, and many more-- basically making a competition out of everything.

You canonically have an on-going scoreboard that you update quite frequently like its a spreadsheet. Detailing everything from status reports of how, "MacTavish was so off his game today that he was a millimeter off from beating me at the sniper range" to "Beat the old man at his own game of mental 4D chess."

Even though you're at even odds against each other on land, on water on the other hand-- its quite a staggering difference.

With the record holding 20-4, you'd think they'd try for different events but no-- they're determined, undeterred at the thought of beating you at your own game.

Until Soap gets caught in a sail, gets hauled up, and is hanging by the sails-- and they swear off those competitions for a while.

Though when it comes to the fitness ones, somehow you always come short of winning with a close score of 30-28, with you up by two for the recent ones at the obstacle course at the Navy Academy. You had homecourt advantage but that never mattered between you five-- what mattered, was that Gaz tripped up at the last moment and fell to his demise on a rope because of the lack of grip from the mud crawling section of the course.

Even then, you were only seconds off from winning-- and of course you had to let them know by bring out your friends from the band, to stroll and march as you exited in style, leaving them more amused than disappointed really.

Who's to say that they don't mess with you as your- technically higher ranking- superiors?

They'll definitely call you out more when it comes to Navy-Army joint training sessions, or handle some of classes in combat or weapons handling.

They are definitely abusing their powers by pulling you out of your classes just to drag you into their silly competitions, which makes your workload stack and you even more determined to slam them to the ground in the gym, with the goal to grapple and flip the opponent first.

They don't feel bad at all, not when they can tease and play with their favorite underclassmen. They honestly just can't wait for you to be in the field with them, and with all this chemistry-- they already had plans for creating the perfect spot for you in their team.

You slotted into their dynamics so well that most of your classmates and other superiors wonder too on why don't the Tf 141 just adopt you already?

Well, because you're insistent in your goal-- and they respect that, though by doing so in challenges to see if you really, truly are committed to it. Elsewise, they would just pick you up and take care of you themselves.

All these hijinks and somehow, you forgot the true purpose behind them--

And TF 141 never forgets to fill in their end of a bargain. So watch out and make sure those scores tally in your favor~

Masterlist for my other works here ! Inspos that I just happened to watch on my feed here! From Sam Eckholm's YT on: -What's Inside the US Naval Academy -What's Inside the Air Force Academy

[kragehund-est]

today i was at the zoo, and was reminded of the fact that no matter how well kept the place is or how much the zoo emphasizes respect for the animals, the public is full of shrieking hooligans who feel entitled to harass animals for entertainment. i was also reminded that of all the things that make me angry on this earth, i can keep my patience for almost anything except disrespect towards animals.

that is, i scolded some people who were yelling and clapping to get the attention of some meerkats, and told off a mom to keep her kids under control and leave the peacocks tf alone. and i felt my heart rate spike up to 180bpm both times.

[ki-kink]

Dude was like, so uptight, like he had a freakin' tree trunk up his booty. Sometimes, bro, all you need is a cold one, or two, or heck, three. Can you even believe that he's only been hangin' with his buds every Sunday for, like, two months, chuggin' brewskis, watchin' soccer, and then heading out for a bar brawl? Wild times, man!

[octuscle]

Allez les bleus

Frederique, Marcel and Luc had to go to Berlin on business. They were all really looking forward to the trip. Although there was a lot to do - the three of them were assisting a French bank with the takeover of a German start-up by a French tech group - they were spending a few days without their wives and children. Frederique's children were already at university, which made the other two, whose children were still of primary school and children's card age, quite envious.

After landing in Berlin, there was a culture shock. None of them were soccer fans. They all played tennis or golf, Marcel had been quite a successful lacrosse player until he had to give up the sport two years ago at the age of 30 due to a knee injury. They hadn't realized that the European Football Championship was being held in Germany. The airport was decorated with UEFA posters, fans from all over the world were walking through the terminal, the cab rank was empty and the three of them had to take the S-Bahn into the city center.

They were surrounded by cheerful fans. Most of them were no longer sober. But all in a good mood. In their suits with their laptop bags and wheeled suitcases, the three of them were absolute strangers on the train. Even though the atmosphere was good, they were annoyed. They had already had a long day at work before they boarded the plane. They had actually been looking forward to a quiet evening. And not an odyssey on a crowded train.

The next shock came when they arrived at their hotel. It wasn't really a hotel. More like a bed and breakfast. In the middle of Berlin's gay district. The streets were not only decorated with the flags of the nations taking part in the European Championships, but also with rainbow flags. The pubs in the area mostly had black-taped windows and were obviously aimed at a fetish clientele. But even here, there were screens outside, people drinking beer and watching a football match. The atmosphere was great. But the three of them had imagined something different. This wasn't the Sofitel they usually stayed at. Whoever had booked this hotel would be ready for a rant. But now the three of them just wanted to go to bed. Looking for something to eat here for dinner was too exhausting for them at this time of night. They agreed on that. And drinking a beer on the street? Not on your life!

When Luc arrived in his room, he had to grin. Yes, this really wasn't what he was used to. But he'd never had a room with a sling in it either. In addition to the usual things, the bathroom also contained lubricant and condoms. Luc sent a picture to the WhatsApp group he had with Frederique and Marcel. Marcel replied with a picture of an Andreas cross. And Frederique sent a picture of a flyer that had been lying on his pillow:

"Yes, I got that too," wrote Marcel. Obviously a voucher for a beer in a pub down the street. "So, are you up for it?" "Tomorrow," Frederique replied. "I'm just too tired." The three of them wished each other a good night. Marcel put the contents of his suitcase in the cupboard. And there were soccer shorts and a jersey in the wardrobe. With a note saying "Welcome to UEFA Euro 2024" on it. "If you want to have fun, help yourself!". Marcel thought about it. He had googled that Spain were playing Italy today. Maybe not a bad game… He tried out the outfit. It looked a bit silly with his Hogan sneakers. It was also a bit tight and the pants were really short. But now to go downstairs, have a beer and watch the second half? Why not?

The atmosphere was great. The beer tasted better than expected. The second one too. And after the third, he had to piss. The pub's toilet was tiled in black. The lighting with black light was more than dim. Marcel could hear from the stalls that men were clearly having sex there. He just grinned. He was having fun. He took his cock out of his soccer shorts to pee. And before he knew it, a clean-shaven skinhead was kneeling in front of him and greedily opening his mouth. Shit, what the hell? thought Marcel and pissed in his open face. And then had his cock sucked.

When Marc came into the breakfast room the next morning, his two French colleagues were already sitting at the table. As usual, they were both as fit as a fiddle. Marc felt a little uncomfortable in his jeans and tight-fitting T-shirt, which showed off his body and tattoos to good effect. Hehehehehe, he thought. But these two will hardly feel comfortable in a gay guesthouse. And shit, he worked for a fintech start-up. That was a different world to the venerable BNP. The three of them went through the agenda again before leaving for Marc's employer. Marc was a developer and web designer. Numbers were not necessarily his world. But because he spoke fluent French, he had been assigned to look after the two investment bankers. It didn't matter, Frederique in particular was a hot DILF. There were worse fates… A ten-hour day, for example. Marc knew that they probably wouldn't be back at the boarding house before 9 pm. Then France played the Netherlands. The top match of the day. Surely the two of them would want to see that.

It was 9.10 p.m. when Marc was finally back in his room. He hurriedly put on his soccer outfit. He loved the knee-length soccer socks. They accentuated his shapely calves perfectly. The three of them had a date downstairs on the street. Marc had organized a high table in his local pub almost directly in front of the screen. He ordered three beers and waited. Damn it, Frederique had actually put on the outfit provided by the guesthouse. As Marc had suspected, he was in really good shape. Perhaps too well for the jersey that was stretching dangerously across Frederique's chest. Luc had only taken off his jacket and was still in his office outfit. He really wasn't interested in soccer at all. He took his beer from the table and walked a few steps away from the bar so that he could talk to his wife and children on the phone without being disturbed.

Frederique was in a good mood. He had drunk three beers by the half-time break. Marc hadn't managed that. And so he followed Frederique to the toilet at some point to relieve the pressure on his bladder. With a bit of luck, the horny skinhead from last night would be back. He loved it when a hot guy had Marc's piss flowing out of the corner of his mouth. When he arrived downstairs at the toilets, he could already see his piss face. Marc got ready. And grinned all over his face. That was definitely Frederique fucking a Dutch fan in one of the toilet cubicles.

When Fred and Marc came to breakfast together, Luc barely raised an eyebrow. He didn't care that they were both dressed far too casually for his taste. He wasn't a start-up hipster. He was just providing them with the fresh money they needed to expand. And Luc and his employer were making a good profit. No, he raised an eyebrow because they both came out of Marc's room. Fred almost naked, in just his soccer shorts. He disappeared straight back into his own room, only to sit down at the breakfast table a few minutes later, dressed more or less appropriately. Luc sighed and turned his attention back to the messages on his cell phone.

Fred and Marc were used to having to work on Saturday. They liked that about their job. Work hard, party hard. And with the new work lifestyle, the boundaries between work and leisure, between colleagues and friends, were becoming increasingly blurred anyway. If this had the effect of Fred shagging Marc in the loo in between, neither of them complained. But today they urged Luc to finish work reasonably on time. They definitely wanted to watch the Turkey-Portugal game. It was interesting from a footballing point of view, but above all they were looking forward to the hot Turkish fans. Hairy, muscular… Especially Marc's taste. But Frederique didn't mind fucking a hot, hairy ass either. If necessary, he sucked a circumcised cock first. Shit, he loves the Turks for the fact that they always keep their balls and cocks slick. Luc wasn't at the reception at 5:30 pm as arranged. When Fred knocked on his door, he opened it. On the phone. Still in his suit. Fred went to the wardrobe and pulled out the soccer outfit. "Come on, loosen up for once. It's Saturday night!" Luc smiled painfully. He pulled the door shut. And after a few minutes, still on the phone, he stepped out of his room in his soccer outfit. The two of them dragged him down to the street, Marc organized three beers and the party could begin.

Shit, some of those footballers are really fucking hot, Luc kept thinking to himself. No wonder he kept building a clearly visible tent in his shiny shorts. One of the Portuguese fans, a small but damn muscular guy, naked except for his boots and leather chaps, but with a Portuguese flag draped around his shoulders, noticed this more than clearly. The two of them shared a beer. And another. The Portuguese asked Luc if he had a room upstairs in the guesthouse, he had seen him come out of the door earlier. Luc licked his lips and nodded. Neither of them noticed how the game ended. By the time the final whistle blew, Luc was already tied to the St. Andrew's cross in his room.

"Mates, where are we watching the game? Here in the Bermuda Triangle or on the fan mile?" With his Germany jersey, it was clear what Luke's preference was. Marc and Fred would have preferred to stay here in their favorite pub, where they were drinking themselves into shape on this Sunday morning. The party and the sex before and after were more important to them. But Luke was a hardcore soccer fan. For him, it was a matter of honor to watch the game in front of the Brandenburg Gate. Marc and Fred took a sip of beer and sighed. "Okay, fan mile then," Marc moaned. "OMG, like if we can catch that Albania vs Spain match at our spot again, it'd be so lit! I ran into some seriously fire Albanians in the restroom yesterday, no joke." The three of them clinked glasses and laughed. The European Championship was great!

Pics by @ki-kink

[grumpyghostdoodles]

Hi! I'm really intrigued with your utdr au and with the upcoming deltarune chapters I can't wait to see what direction your gonna go in. Do you have any Kris art or Papyrus art since these two are kinda my favs. Also we know Frisk knows about the red soul in Kris, but what about other characters or the fact that its implied if the soul possessing Kris dies or Kris breaks their strings, Kris dies along side it?

Sorry if this ask is long I guess I'm just really interested in your work Hope your art goes well!

Loved loved LOVED this ask, have a bunch of Dadrius doodles, just for you! Im so happy that youre enjoying the ride, theres so much more to come <3<3

And about the red soul, Chara is able to see/sense it as well! and you better believe that they are stressing tf out about it. They leave for college, only to get a call from Frisk to come back to deal with a soul controlled cousin (that can die if not severed the control properly) and the end of the world (again). Those damn teenager hooligans, giving Chara gray hair from stress XD

[antspaul]

what on gods green earth are you talking about. your country created football hooliganism tf

[mgarmagedon]

Wait, since did drift (from tf rid15) adopted slipstream and jetstorm in the human au?/gen

In OG rid15 he just took them as a students, after the war and his emo phase as a Deadlock, so there is not much more behind it. I mean they rarely talked about past of anyone XDD

I mean we don't know still why Bee knew Sideswipe before rid15, Ik he might be a local hooligan, but yeah.

So in my au which is full of headcanons and few mixed things from other tf media. In the au, he never literally adopted them, he just took them under his wing, and start treating them like his children, but Jet and Slip are not calling him dad, they refer to him by calling him master.

I'm calling it 'adoption' as a shortcut, I'm sorry man, if that confused you. I should more explain their relationship.

In my au he just took two orphans who lived on streets of new Kaon as thieves. So he rescued them and took them as a students when he came back to cybertron.

The same with Sideswipe, he calls him Drift and when he is really scared he calls him master.

But the double trouble still call Bee an uncle. XDD

[jennrypan]

The way Zeus and Hera would (and SHOULD) murder all the avid Apollo supporters cuz litterally how dare you 😶

Yall have been leaving LUSH for years, and suddenly this bitch comes in and yall got so much to say?? Actively supporting him tryna take the throne and disrespecting all the other Olympians?? SERIOUSLY??

Get striked down tf-- ungrateful ass hooligans-

I'm so-- Zeus would literally NOT let Apollo get this far, HERA wouldn't let him get that far.

He's literally a bastard brat, he has NO claim to the throne, it'd be Ares or ATHENA. OH MY GOD--

Also..why is everyone acting like Apollo is the only God doing shit..like Hestia, Demeter and everyone else doesn't do anything?? Like..huh?? Be so fucking fr. God the Olympus citizens are so stupid--