#para: dave

[sugarmottahq]

location: choir room

date & time: october 2nd / after glee

tagging: dave karofsky @mcdaveykarofsk

triggers: bullying cw, more tagged when needed.

sugar twirled a lock of her hair between her fingers as she walked down the hallway, her mind drifting to the world's most perfect bag that was waiting for her at home after rehearsal. she was halfway out the door when she realized she had left her coat in the glee room. sighing, she turned on her heel, making her way back through the empty hallways. as she approached the choir room, she heard the noise from within and assumed it was rachel and jesse flirting by making gargling noises they called vocal exercises - such a shame not everyone had her talent. "keep your pants o-" sugar started saying as she pushed the door open, stopping in her tracks when she spotted karofsky by the piano.

for a split second, a wave of unease washed over her. she remembered all too well the way he used to be, and the way he'd terrorized anyone who was different. but sugar was sugar – cool, confident, and unshakeable. she pushed her discomfort down, straightened her posture, and plastered on a bright, nonchalant smile.

"oh, didn't expect to see you here," she said with a shrug. "just came to grab my coat. don't let me interrupt your... whatever."

[jojo-schmo]

Crow Strider AU my beloved…. I am so happy you exist. <3

AU is by @meraki-sunset

[ernestoednrec]

La crema y nata de la música 👌🏻

[the-acid-pear]

I love how Jack in 3 mostly refuses to be nice to Dave to his face but he'll be so on his back. Like parallel him puking at the sight of a painting of Dave on the Flipside and turning down every flirting attempt (I'm counting him telling DaveTrap to shut up about his ass btw) to him speaking so fondly of Dave to Jake and when Roger mentions an aubergine wearing lingerie on the tapes he's like Wait Employee Can I See? 👀 like. I really feel his feelings for this man remain as much as before but he is too busy sigma'ing his way and bottling them up because 20 years alone left him bitter. Blows up. 💥

[dstrider-3]

hey. hey does kin tumblr still exist. what the fuck do i do if i have memories that would have been traumatic in that tl but they did not happen to me now but i still have violent reactions to them. what is that. what

[m-ultiverso]

[askthestonerbrett]

After sending his last message to Dave, Brett got up and made his way into his kitchen to grab some snacks. He had plenty of options, so he grabbed a few things that would be easy to eat outside and pulled out his cooler. He put ice and some drinks inside, then headed back out into his backyard. Because he was already out there before, he already had a table out there with a speaker for music, a laptop for movies, and a small tray with a box for all of his smokeables and edibles. The food was placed on the table too, within reach of the hammock. The drinks were scooted beneath the table in the cooler with the opening for the lid within reach too.

When the side gate opened and Dave came in like he'd been told that he could, Brett turned to face the other man with a grin. "Hey there, stranger. Come on over, you're just in time."

@askfuturedavekarofsky

[ekubli]

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DBZ/Giant Bomb fan animation I did a few years back.

Audio from All Systems Goku podcast

[bam-ology]

The Characters (2003)

[wolf-innsheepsclothing]

4 Years, 364 Days - Self Para

Amsterdam, January 23rd, 2018 Max was staring up at the sky, but his eyes didn’t see. Were they stars, that danced overhead, or was he just seeing lights in his vision again? Maybe it was just satellites, hollow and man-made. 

Swynlake, July 23rd, 2019  The stars were out again, but Wolfgang turned his face from them, staring instead down the barrel of a bottle. What use did he have for stars? The park bench felt cold and hard beneath him, despite the fact that the night had been a warm one.

Next Town Over, July 23rd, 2024 The lights in the community room always buzzed, much to his annoyance. Wolf stared up at them as one of the other group members was talking. He didn’t want to be rude, this time, but they were talking a lot and saying very little.

On the eve of a major landmark, Wolfgang revisits some key moments in his past.

Content Warnings: Alcohol Abuse, Drug Abuse, Addiction Issues, Suicidal Thinking

Amsterdam, January 23rd, 2018

Max was staring up at the sky, but his eyes didn’t see. Were they stars, that danced overhead, or was he just seeing lights in his vision again? Maybe it was just satellites, hollow and man-made. 

He’d seen them before, stretched out on park benches in Amsterdam in the cold, grinning in his drug-induced delirium and thinking they were stars. He’d wanted to reach out and touch them, but his grasp was never long enough. He’d thought maybe, just a little further and he could- but each time his hand came back empty. And then he’d wrapped his hand back to his chest, where his heart beat so hard and so loud and so insistently and he just wished it would stop and fall silent. 

The satellite seemed to swim out of sight and he was left staring up at dark sky.

Oblivion would be nice. Then he could just let go, just slip back into it as if he was dropping into a warm bath and forget. He could forget all about home, about Munich, about the fear pumping through his veins as they’d ran and the rattle of bullets, about the reek of burned flesh and smoke that still clung to him no matter how hard he tried to wash it out. He could forget about that steady beat of the heart monitor and the soft whimper of Felix’s voice as every movement brought him agony that the medication couldn’t take away. 

It would be so much easier. His eyes had drifted closed, the cold sinking in at his extremities like an old friend he hadn’t known he was missing. Then, perhaps, for a moment he wouldn’t feel the guilt that wracked every one of his moments, that haunted his waking steps only to find him again in sleep and wreak its revenge on him. 

He could sleep here, perhaps, he could close his eyes and drift away and just let go. Nobody would miss him. Just another lost cause. 

What did he care for those distant voices? They wouldn’t care for him, either. 

But the voices grew nearer and nearer and peaceful oblivion slipped from his fingers like sand through an hourglass. Did he hate them for that? Maybe he hated them for it. 

They only sounded like children, to his ears, but when the voices came they were loud and raucous and drunk, maybe. 

“Meneer!” One of the voices called. “Meneer, wake up! You can’t sleep there!”

Max grumbled as someone slapped his leg, wanting nothing more than to roll over and be left alone. 

“You’ll freeze out here! Go home!” A second voice chimed in, and a hand that felt warm (too warm, did hands always feel so warm? Why on earth was this person so warm?) slapped against his face. He opened his hazy eyes once more, and tried to glare at the young woman he saw there. Her eyes were kind, but she shifted backwards from his swimming vision. 

“You need to go home,” the voice came again, still kind, as a hand gripped his leg. Her friends were calling her to carry on and get going. 

He didn’t have a home, but he lifted a hand to rub it over his face. The satellite had come back out from behind a cloud. 

Swynlake, July 23rd, 2019. 

The stars were out again, but Wolfgang turned his face from them, staring instead down the barrel of a bottle. What use did he have for stars? The park bench felt cold and hard beneath him, despite the fact that the night had been a warm one. Maybe it was the leftover rainwater that reflected those stars, that seeped into his clothes and clung to his skin. It whispered to him. Come into the cold, join us. Join us. 

It was all he was good for. 

He didn’t want to go home, not to that draughty house with its guests coming and going and the stench of vampire that never quite got out of his pores no matter how hard he scrubbed. They wouldn’t want him back anyway. The Hauntleys had made it very clear, he had to stay sober to keep the job. They would throw him out anyway, and who would miss him? The revenant who looked at him with such nervous fear in his eyes? The gardener who wanted none of him? The chef? 

No, nobody would miss him. 

Nobody missed him but the drink, the drugs, the constant voice that called out to him and promised that they could dull the pain for a little while. He knew it was only temporary, but when his head was splitting with it all, what choice did he have? 

Still, he had fallen again, and in that moment he just wanted to keep on falling, to let himself fall down, down, down until he finally hit the bottom and knew no more. But his drink was empty. 

His head bowed, as he heard the distant sounds of the bars and the music thudding from Pixies. He had hoped one of them might feel the miserable, cavernous hole in his heart, but there was nothing. There would be nothing. On days like this he wondered why he had ever taken that hand up from the gutter, and not just lain there and let go. It would have been so much easier to let go. Nobody would have known. His phone lit up on the bench next to him, but he ignored it. He wanted it to go away, he wanted everything to just go away, he couldn’t take this any longer. 

But all he could do was sit there, staring at the last defiant drop in the bottle and wishing he could drink that too. 

He didn’t notice, at first, the crunch of gravel as footsteps came towards him; not until the battered old biker boots were standing in front of him. 

“I’ll take that, buddy,” came the gruff voice, before a shape crouched down in front of him. Through bleary eyes, it took Wolfgang a moment to understand the shapes in front of him, and the shock of blonde hair that came on top of all that leather. 

“Sounds like you’ve had a rough night, yeah?” Dave spoke, still sounding as if he wasn’t concerned, as he pried Wolfgang’s resistant fingers from the bottle, and set it out of reach. Wolfgang swallowed around a thick tongue that had nothing to say. He had failed Dave, too. Again. He didn’t know why the other man kept coming back, or kept trying, when it was so painfully obvious that he couldn’t do this. He just wasn’t cut out for walking the straight and narrow path that he had been set on. 

And yet, the man shifted himself, and took a spot on the bench next to Wolfgang. Wolf kept his eyes fixed on the ground, as the two of them sat there in silence. 

“Good sky tonight,” Dave acknowledged after a long while. 

Wolfgang looked up. Sure. The stars were twinkling. Or were they? They seemed to be swimming to him, as the blood rushed to his head and he blinked, hearing the roar in his veins and feeling unsteady. 

“Come on, big guy,” Dave laid a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t stay here all night! You come back with me, we’ll get you a nice warm bed and the Missus will fix you up a good breakfast for the morning, yeah?”

Wolf slurred some vague protest, but there was an arm being looped around his back, and his was draped over Dave’s shoulder and he was being pulled to his feet before he could find any of the words to say why he shouldn’t. 

“I’m glad you texted me, ok Wolfie?” Dave added, patting his arm, before he began half-carrying him home. 

He didn’t remember when he’d texted, but as his feet struggled to find themselves under him on the gravel, he didn’t have time to think about it. 

Next Town Over, July 23rd, 2024

The lights in the community room always buzzed, much to his annoyance. Wolf stared up at them as one of the other group members was talking. He didn’t want to be rude, this time, but they were talking a lot and saying very little. He was just tired. He felt it, right down into his bones. He felt it when he tried to clear up at the Inn and do his small part to get the space ready to be repaired properly, where even the rhythmic sweep of a brush, or the satisfaction of small improvements could not help him rest. He felt it when he sat down in his room, and stared at the plain white walls, since he had no project left he could work on. He felt it in the shower when he let the water wash over him and try to wash away his failings, and his whole body ached. He felt it when he closed his eyes and laid down to rest only to find no rest would come. 

He was so tired. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t felt it. Had it been some brief glimpse over a bowl of pasta, or sat on a sofa as some tv show he’d never heard of played in the background, just listening as a now-familiar voice talked? Had it been some time before all this began? Or before the John Cunningham affair? Had it been some time long before that, or had he always had this ache in his bones?

“And, uh-” Wolf dragged his eyes back down from the ceiling, back to the ring of uncomfortable folding chairs that had huddled once more on a scuffed and scratched wooden floor. “Well, if nobody else has anything to say this week-” The group leader looked around the room expectantly, giving each of them time to consider if they wanted to but being met only in shades of silence, before he clasped his hands together and continued. 

“Well, as always, thank you to everyone who did speak. I just wanted to highlight, we’ve actually got something of a landmark coming up this week!” He was smiling warmly, and Wolf felt his heart sink. 

“I just want to say a big congratulations to Wolfgang.” Wolf’s body stiffened as he felt eyes shifting onto him. “Who, this week will be marking five years sober!” It sounded like a triumph when he said it, and a few people smiled encouragingly, feeling awkwardly as though some sort of round of applause had been expected. None came. Wolf thanked god for that. 

“Listen,” the leader dropped his voice, into a more serious tone. “You might not be our chattiest member-” (that actually raised a few chuckles around the room) “- but you show up, every week, and you put the work in. Each and every single one of us knows how hard that is. We’re really proud of you, and we’re really glad you’re here.”

A murmur of agreement went around the room. Wolf looked down at his shoes, and nodded his acknowledgement. He wasn’t about to stand up and make some speech. It only made him feel more tired, more exhausted. He felt like he was an imposter (he didn’t know why), like he didn’t belong there (because what, he still found it hard some days?). 

Wolfgang looked up again, and gave a few more nods around the room. When his eyes met Dave’s, he was not surprised to see they were searching him, as if looking into his heart and questioning him. The big blond man had his arms folded across his chest, but he gave Wolfgang a nod, and a smile. 

Maybe some other day they would talk about it, but not tonight. 

[supereuroflash]

Dave Hammond - Africa

[adribosch-fan]

El lado solidario de Dave Grohl: cocinar para casi 500 indigentes 

A pesar de una fuerte tormenta, el cantante de Foo Fighters, Dave Grohl, cocinó parrilla para casi 500 personas sin hogar en Los Ángeles Al líder de Foo Fighters no lo paró ni la lluvia / Foto: Facebook Dave Grohl ha emocionado a sus fanáticos. Y es que el líder de la banda de rock estadounidense Foo Fighters, ha mostrado su lado solidario. Recientemente, ejerció de cocinero, en el que hizo…

[ernestoednrec]

[the-acid-pear]

Y'know this little throwaway gag is so bizarre to me and I know this game is a bit very different to 2 and 3 but look at Matt's reaction when Jack raids the place in 3:

You'd argue he's simply stopping Jack bc he hates this guy and he also hates this job which Could Be True but i highly doubt bc overall despite his virginity and overall cursed vibe, Matt seems to be a good employee, by all means (I mean, Peter literally gave him a vacation instead of firing him in 2, so that says a lot).

Plus, Dave hates this guy as much as he hates him! He literally always calls him creepy and, AND!

This is the only footage you get of the prize corner in 2. Which is also the first game to show Matt and Dave's disdain for one another, Dave being likely more scared of Matt than Matt will ever be of him.

Which is all very curious. 2 does set a drastic change for Matt too with him going from being just strange to outright creepy, so was the old pizza place closing something that actually affected him or was he consistently that creepy all along? And if the later, did he just start hating Dave after that or did they always have beef and they simply had some sort of arrangement (or even higher word from Steven who tended to let Dave do whatever he wanted in general) that let him do so?

[dstrider-3]

whiines. i miss my bro :(

[diyeipetea]

Jazz Para Ti: #JPT87 T05P04 Por Pachi Tapiz [Podcast de jazz]

Jazz Para Ti: #JPT87 T05P04 Por Pachi Tapiz [Podcast de jazz]

Jazz Para Ti 87 En la edición del 25 de octubre de 2022 de Jazz Para Ti, el cuarto programa de la temporada 2022-23, suena música de las siguientes grabaciones. Ernesto Cervini: Joy (TPR Records, 2022) Jeff Denson – Romain Pilon – Brian Blade: Finding Light (Ridgeway Records, 2022) Ethan Philion: Meditations on Mingus (Sunnyside Records. 2022) Celano / Badenhorst / Baggiani feat. Wolfert…