#dessie's pals

[fanfic-chan]

Ler Mikey Headcanons

Made these for a certain friend. You know who you are :3

Absolutely ruthless ler, without a doubt. He's the type of ler that is scary, knows it, and takes full advantage of it.

After Toman Meetings he'll sometimes go around and mess with whatever members decide to linger around. Sometimes leads to giant tickle wars breaking out until the cops get called about the noise and they all have to skidaddle rip

When chasing someone, he likes to mess with his victim by kinda just walking slowly behind them while they run, and once they've either worn themselves out or begin to think they're safe, he pounces.

When teaming up with someone, his go to is definitely Draken, but I think he also likes working in tandem with people like Smiley and Baji too. In which case, good luck to you rip.

I imagine him as being more of a rough ler when it comes to technique, but he's also quite good at switching it up depending on what gets the best reactions.

He also likes to mess with his victims in the most inopportune places possible. In class, at movie, in Toman meetings, anywhere. And then he'll simply pretend he didn't have a single thing to do with it after you squeal or jump. Little baby gremlin.

He also really likes doing that air tickling thing just to mess with the ones that get flustered more easily, (Takemitchy, Chifuyu, etc) and will usually do so until he either gets bored or they just buckle and beg him to get it over with already. Whichever comes first.

I think he'd be a pretty mischievous and teasy ler, and though his movements seem messy, they're actually very methodical. He's good at reading his victims, and he's pretty good at judging when he needs to lighten up or if they can take more.

As rough around the edges as he can be at times, when it comes to things like tickling, whether it be for punishment, play, or anything else, he never wants to overdo it. He cares deeply about those whom he's willing to play around with so openly, so the last thing he wants to do is make it a traumatic or uncomfortable experience.

Overall, tickling is absolutely one of Mikey's favorite ways of showing subtle affection to those he feels close to, so it's actually a bit of a compliment if he does choose to play around with you in that way.

#sfw #tokyo revengers #tickling #tokyo revengers tickling #ler!mikey #dessie's pals #sakura 🌸

[wpdariacutnes]

🐟🧤🐟🧤🐟🧤🐟🧤🐟🧤🐟🧤🐟🧤🐟🧤🐟🧤

Me: redsinging one doodle song because how ask for? Dont get woring say but I dont finks a so good singer but makes dys like note staws sure das can

🦎🐞🦎🐞🦎🐞🦎🐞🦎🐞🦎🐞🦎🐞🦎🐞🦎🐞

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("Virus come, fires burn")

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I dont need a bitch girl power on the dessy poison

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Echo:

and misoog get a smoke

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everything just falls away on self worlds role in you after peretns deatch lines enifing same sagers "

now none a not only belongs to yesterday

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every single day after care it a never heppend after me knows a heppend on smile

I dont need a bitch girl power on the dessy poison

I dont need a bitch girl power on the dessy poison

I dont need a bitch girl power on the dessy poison

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a haow on after cry a one bitches

is lames a wona faceploe a me on shit

a lafing a evil hazbent killer hoa

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Tell me, who do you think you are, are?

Until human beings listen hoa~

After mean female a cutness is bullshit

Someone say a wona bitch in me kness a limps a care sheep cake shit witch a kill it a rage out's

Like not coment~

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After she so panik a say

you won't go far, im get self shut a far

Me say

Well you drop self a bulling gum a forgot death note a without me a knows bro hit a bug from a saverlity you devil shit

"You forgot that, without me"

Need to purge the poison from our system~

I dont need a bitch girl power on the dessy poison

Until human beings listen

I dont need a bitch girl power on the dessy poison

Tell me, who do you think you are?

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Like deam friday night funkin after care old spolebrant a get deam blood nose

shit a mood in shit Real plase sone

femi get your momy lolipop a dead soap

I just want a world hevan where I can see the

Like an angel gone to hell

Because say a das ex-frends give deam

Cast the moon under our spell

like a white rose

Because bezz a bees jazz a das a bitch

Eath is lems We only make up bead how

A place so corrupt where a dead of forget name out mean head lmao

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Sorry a sorry a grilfrend is act me a wery rage a after knows shiti knows mean

A get male frends a rip knows she say so deas frendsoon

Dont supraze a boy say knows a do witch strep a gum in lips

Deam~ gril so lame is act like man a gril bitch

Yeah here dys male is gril on you play chess idiot

Deam~

Owning female power, taking back a nader trauma me a enifing femism stick deatch what's home

Pall a deassy in jazz man~ man is hot a gril after so shy more

Deam das skini man like dessy poison das sexy shit

I dont need a bitch girl power on the dessy poison

Not me fund a mank get a red lips a kiss me neck a knows me had went been lol

Only argument is yoru is act like you dumb guy a das boba chess but it

Angel flesh and blood is sold

Man can do like bone on boba~

hello~

Man a sexy a red lips a note me a knows me a fuck it a head a self a mad distans sexy

Man can do like bone on boba~

The is born as new ones a wona enotret me

Man wona same pricess out a disney jazz rope on blood flor

But bro gril

Is not me fult a man wona red hils and care a shapen a knows on get self a so "head brunet a funky a hate hem eterus a gril giveshit fuck hem haters in tret"

A fames gril act like animal a knows me a wo enifing care a pisen and toxic apple but dys or frow me a sea none move for

Not me fult a not femism grils powers a white blitch buchu buchu~

None me fult a man filing so female a stage a statuse wona head out's

Man's self say a get red hild a powers a enifing filings a univer staws in star

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Like ugh dys gril is get a fuck hem what been it

After get giggle a man woking a long back hild a care a legs but dys a paparaci in after is fell a more open legs

But supraze fell get blood nose out me lips a finks but dys Man's

Someone more love boy powers enifing lames life going on a enifing boring fork on

Started with a diamond dew

Cupid wona enifing wona man good treat a care you been here

None me ploblem man woring a red legs a more introsting but dys a sexy back likes on line

I dont need a bitch girl power on the dessy poison

Head a Hit on

Man can do like bone on boba~

Man same fuck a hate in get one life

Tell me, who do you think you are, are?

🐟🧤🐟🧤🐟🧤🐟🧤🐟🧤🐟🧤🐟🧤🐟🧤🐟🧤

Offical epic note: 17.12.2023.r

🦎🐞🦎🐞🦎🐞🦎🐞🦎🐞🦎🐞🦎🐞🦎🐞🦎🐞

#applelili_megaman_ver #megamancomunity #mereal #wpexpleing #parents take rule #youtube #art2024 #art 2023

[deedesria543]

Hey guys, gals, and they/them pals!

I know it’s not been too long since I started posting Soul Vs on my other blog. Only two pages are out. It’s very important for artists to get feedback. I’d like to know what your first impressions are on soul vs!

Even if you think it’s shit or aren’t a fan, please, I want to know what you all think! Reblog, comment, or shoot me an ask with your response! Thank you!

Love yalls~

-Dessie

[huqypropertisyariah]

Belum punya TANAH atau RUMAH??? Caranya mudah #TANPA BANK #TANAH #KAVLINGAN #STRATEGIS Bagaimana Cara Mempersiapkan Hari Esok yang AMAN? 😕 Sudah berapa lama anda bekerja? ASET apa yang sudah Anda miliki? Segera!!! miliki properti di tempat yang PASTI ramai & punya KEPASTIAN market. Mudah Beli, Mudah Jual 👌 Properti paling aman adalah properti yang berada di -DEKAT KAMPUS -PASAR -SEKOLAH -RUMAH SAKIT -WISATA -PADAT PEMUKIMAN PENDUDUK -PERUMAHAN -AKSES LOKASI DI TEPI JALAN ASPAL WOW MANTAP Segera hubungin kami... Satu satunya kavlingan yang sangat cepat progres pembangun infrastur dll More info telp 👉 [phone] David 👉 [phone] Zainudin 👉 [phone] Wahyu 👉 [phone] Arief 👉 [phone] Rino 👉 [phone] Ali 👉 [phone] Dessi 👉 [phone] Alan ▪︎ BABUSSALAM KAVLING ▪︎ FIRDAUS KAVLING ▪︎ MUKHLISHIN KAVLING Specialis KAVLING SIAP BANGUN Alamat Kantor Pemasaran: Pall 7 dari kota baru, ada Simpang 4 petamina maju lebih kurang 60m Pas Sebelah Indomart PT.HUQY Properti Syariah (HQPS) Kenali Asam Bawah, Kota Baru, Kota Jambi, Jambi 36129 https://maps.app.goo.gl/pnTbe Alamat Project Kami: BABUSSALAM KAVLING Pal 13 pondok meja, belakang puskemas. Masuk 800m sesudah perumahan Vitoria, pas bergandengan dengan perumahan Peranginan Pd. Meja, Mestong, Kabupaten Muaro Jambi, Jambi 36364 0813-6699-4310 https://maps.app.goo.gl/TQFABm9iawiYUgzPA (di Jambi City) https://www.instagram.com/p/B_-EeirDvmw/?igshid=xj7lcm4rkp0

#tanpa #tanah #kavlingan #strategis

[penpal-shenanigans]

Len's Delivery

To see the FoF letter click or tap HERE

Five years ago

I haven't had a response from His Grace from another universe. We are packing our things for next week because we have to move, as told by Katrina and Mark. One of the demon hunters are exposed and it turns out to be the king himself. An earthquake has struck Simsland and I hear talk about a new volcano that has sprouted from the earthquake that happened. And as I grab an empty box, I hear a voice that is yelling... In French. That must be Kat's nephew, Lester Rosas. A sudden bang to the door causing Oliver to jump up and scream. I rush to the door and what greets me is a blond teenager, looking down with his hand on his face.

"L-Lester?"

"Aaaaaaaaaaaïeeeeeee! Ça fait mal, Papaaaaaaaaaa! Mon nez, merde!" He cries. He looks up and wipes his bleeding nose. "Mr. Sawyer! You write letters to His Grace from another universe, right?"

"Erm... Yes. Kid, your nose."

"I know, Sir. That I can manage on my own. Uhhhhh..." He begins searching in his bag and he pulls out some block wrapped in aged paper with a dark ruby wax seal of a rose, dusted with some gold on top of it. "These are a deck of tarot cards, made by yours truly." He hands me the wrapped deck and it has a signature below it.

"Clair?"

"That is my second name, Monsieur! Don't ask about it, blame my grandma for telling my mom that idea for a name." Lester has a second name? I learned something new today. I give the cards a whiff and it smells like tea. Green tea.

"Bruh, why it smell like tea?"

"Elisa stole all my tea! So I stole some of the paper and made these. I better get going to the ER now, send them to the AU King of Simsland. I wanna know something about a certain guy and I included a letter inside it for both of them to see. Au revoir!" He runs to his motorbike and rides off. My husband looks over my shoulder and looked at the thing I'm holding

"Tea?"

"No."

The folded letter above the deck:

"Dear Your Majesty,

Enchanté ! I am Lester Clair Rosas, an artist and musician, like my dad who had a strong platonic bond with the late king he in this world before his death. I made some tarot cards for an experiment, because here in our universe, an acquaintance of mine named Henry Fyres enchanted another set of tarot cards I made and made a huge crater deep in the woods of Granite Falls and he caused huge chunks of earth from the crater to float up into the sky. That was back in August of 2028. I am wondering if you have someone similar in your universe.

We've found out that if a deck of tarot cards will be used for divination, a spell caster should enchant it. (Learned it from a benevolent Acedian, demon of sloth, who had connections with my cousins' grandma.) It is up to you whether you want to keep it or send it back. These custom Tarot de Marseille cards are just for this experiment.

If they are unwilling to enchant these, that's fine. You can return them and have me sell them to a beginner spellcaster who would want to try enchanting a tarot deck if that pleases you and your âme sœur. I understand if you send them back unenchanted. I am not going to force them to if they don't want to. I'm glad to hear that we are able to connect to someone in a different universe.

-Lester Rosas

By the way: Le fantôme de ma petite amie dit mon jeu de cartes ne ressemble pas à ivrogne a dessiné les dessins, mais j'étais saoul quand je dessi leu. Notamment, le carte « Le Diable », où je buvait moitié un bouteille de non dilué absinthe (mon grand père ne sera pas contant) et un deux bouteilles entier de un mélange des tequila et vodka. C'était un jour charmant qui je souffert. "

Five years later

It has been four years since Elisa, her mom, her cousin, her grandpa and her girlfriend made the internet that connects to other universes. I remember what she said while Katrina is talking to me via video call. A girl who happily yelled 'This is fucking science!' I'm glad Kat is good with her children as both of them do amazing things. We moved back to Brindleton Bay from San Myshuno after the defeat of ▉▉▉▉▉▉ and the redemption of Noel. Finally our children and pets can be at home in peace. A mysterious email showed up in my inbox and I see it's from the King of the alternate Simsland. I read the email from His Grace and then I tuck away Elois from the couch to her bed. A knock from our front door just after I gave Taffy and Butterscotch some food. What greets me is a tall, handsome man with golden brown hair and hazel eyes. Call me guilty for checking him out while intimidated.

"May... I... Help you?" I ask.

"Fear not, I'm Χιόνι, the white crow that Katrina had kept. I am in debt for the kindness of some of the recipients and senders who were kind to me and you're one of them."

"O-Oh?"

"I go by Zaphyr now, as a reminiscence to my very old name. I will send a something for your pen pal, if you please."

"Sure... Wait... Uh... Stay inside? For a moment?" I say with my shaky voice. I go off and grab a box that has the unopened, wax seal still in place tarot cards, drawings made by my sons and daughter for the King of Simsland in the other universe and a folder with Filipino songs in it. I also included the pastel blue bear charm my husband knitted, a set of small skull earrings in a small gift box and a hand written 'Take care of yourselves' poster I just did. I give the box to Zaphyr and we nod.

"I will send this to him with utmost care." He goes out and flies off. This is the first time I have seen an actual angel fly. I got to my computer to reply to the email.

"Dear His Majesty,

I understand the late reply as there could've been so much happening in your life, just like us. Recently, the demon troublemaker is defeated and we have moved back to our home in Brindleton Bay since Simsland is now finally safer and more at peace. We also found out that it is possible for a demon to posses another demon. Huh.

A lot of good things have been happening. The king of our universe is engaged, Elisa had done a lot of inventions and made a special internet that can connect to other universes, her sister, Emilia, made so many cures and vaccines, our neighbour freed her fiancé from hell and will be married soon, and so much great things going on. We also had children. They're Elois, Tristan and Andrew and they're very active and healthy and my bizarrely eccentric husband has finally calmed down after all that mess was over.

We're also sending a care package to you, via the old way of sending it to you, but instead of a white crow, it's someone by the name of Zaphyr. It also has some of the things we were supposed to send to you years ago and we were able to preserve them well.

The Simsland here is getting better knowledge thanks to the Rosas-Vatore family. There is also a museum built in Windenburg for the ancient artifacts from angels and demons. Our neighbor has finally cleared her storage and I hear the museum will have very high security.

On the question of are there good demons and bad demons, well it seems so. I'm told there are differences with demons raised by humans on earth and demons raised in hell. It also seems that there are angels that aren't good as they seem as I heard that an angel harrassed a good demon and several humans.

A lot of stuff happening like a volcano just formed from a magic induced earthquake five years ago. I forgot what it is called and I hear that weird things happen there. There's also a bunch of floating rocks in some forest in Granite Falls and Oasis Springs' river started flowing backwards.

I hope things are going well for you in your universe.

Sincerely, Len Dean-Sawyer"

I press send before I go play with Taffy. I hope the package gets to them.

[newsintheshell]

Penguin Highway, trailer e tutti i dettagli sull’uscita in home video

L’inventiva e surreale pellicola tratta dal premiato romanzo di Tomihiko Morimi sarà disponibile in DVD e Blu-ray dal 26 giugno.

Dopo essere sbarcato nelle nostre sale lo scorso novembre, grazie a Nexo Digital, “Penguin Highway” si prepara ad uscire anche in DVD e Blu-ray. Dynit ha diffuso oggi, assieme ad un trailer, tutti i dettagli sull’edizione home video del film tratto dal premiato romanzo di Tomihiko Morimi (The Tatami Galaxy, The Eccentric Family), edito nel nostro paese da Kappalab.

La versione first press del box sarà disponibile dal 26 giugno di quest’anno. L’edizione Blu-ray è preacquistabile al prezzo di € 29,90, mentre quella DVD a € 24,90. 

Nel trailer è possibile ascoltare un estratto del brano “Good Night”, cantato da Hikaru Utada. Si tratta della sua prima canzone per un film d’animazione dal 2012, dopo “Evangelion: 3.0 You Can (Not) Redo”.

Aoyama frequenta solo la quarta elementare, ma conosce talmente tante cose da non avere nulla da invidiare a un adulto. Come fa? Prende sempre molti appunti dettagliati e legge un sacco di libri. Un giorno, nella periferia della sua città, iniziano ad apparire tanto all’improvviso quanto inspiegabilmente dei pinguini, che poi spariscono senza lasciare alcuna traccia. Ma il piccolo ricercatore, grazie alla sua dedizione, scopre che la strana vicenda è collegata a una sorprendente capacità segreta della ragazza che lavora alla clinica odontoiatrica cittadina, e decide così scoprire maggiori dettagli indagando sul mistero…

Scheda tecnica:

Video: MPEG4-AVC / 1080p / 23.98fps / 1.85:1 Durata: 117 min extra esclusi (Blu-ray) MPEG2 PAL / 16:9 Anamorfico / 1.78:1 Durata: 117 min extra esclusi (DVD)

Audio: ITALIANO dts-HD Master Audio 5.1ch GIAPPONESE dts-HD Master Audio 5.1ch (Blu-ray) ITALIANO Dolby Digital 5.1ch GIAPPONESE Dolby Digital 5.1ch (DVD)

Sottotitoli: Italiano

Extra:

Booklet 36 pagine

Booklet 52 pagine Aoyama Note Book

Poster cinematografico

Card esclusiva

Trailer e spot originali

Scene tagliate

“Il mistero dei pinguini”

D-trailers

Di seguito il cast principale:

Aoyama: Antonella Baldini / Kana Kita

Sorellona: Emanuela Ionica / Yuu Aoi

Uchida: Leonardo Della Bianca / Rie Kugimiya

Suzuki: Gabriele Patriarca / Miki Fukui

Hamamoto: Monica Volpe / Megumi Han

Nagasaki: Tatiana Dessi 

Kobayashi: Gabriele Meoni 

L’inventiva e surreale pellicola è stata diretta da Hiroyasu Ishida (Hinata no Aoshigure), alla sua prima prova con un lungometraggio, e realizzata presso Studio Colorido (Taifuu no Noruda). La sceneggiatura è stata curata da Makoto Ueda (Yoru wa Mijikashi Arukeyo Otome), mentre il character design da Youjirou Arai (Hinata no Aoshigure). La colonna sonora è, invece, quella composta da Umitarou Abe. 

SilenziO)))

[FONTE]

#penguin highway #home video #dynit #terminal video #anime #film #light novel #blu-ray #dvd #sub ita #dub ita #newsintheshell #news in teh shell #animazione #giappone #studio colorido #amazon

[lilbeankiddo]

Cricket legends who played in the Indian Premier League

“It’s only a few people, administrators and umpires, who had some doubt,” Murali recalls about the controversy over his bowling action. “That is their opinion,  but someone’s opinion can’t be the rule. Doubt is part of life, that’s fair enough. But there are two sides to every story. An Australian university proved me right, in the end.

“If you leave the decision to the umpire, though, I don’t think that is fair. Not on the umpire and defi nitely not on the player. How can you see from the eyes and say that this is not right? Two people might see it diff erently. When you’re bowling, your arms rotate quicker than anything and you can’t see properly. So use the technology, see if what you’re saying is right, and then come to a conclusion. And then you can tell the bowler to change their action. These rules have been brought in aft er my incident, so things are done in diff erent ways. Now a bowler has a fair chance.

Cricket boards get millions from TV rights, the ICC pay you a lot. And who wants to take that money? Not the cricketers. Everything is politicised. In the 1990s, nobody wants to come to develop the game, so honest people do the work. Aft er the World Cup win in 1996, money started coming in by 2000, and in ten years’ time, they spoil all the game.

“We have good youngsters, but confi dence levels are going down. We used to be very confi dent. The most important thing is to get them mentally right. They have all the shots, but they don’t know how to make fi ft y, hundred or even a partnership. Those are the things that are lacking in the national side.” Since retirement, Murali has gone into manufacturing – his father made biscuits, while he has gone into aluminium cans. He’s also heavily involved with former manager Kushil Gunasekera’s charity, Foundation of Goodness. “The foundation helps people in the poorer areas, those parts of Sri Lanka aff ected by the Civil War and the 2004 Tsunami. We also have built sports facilities and helped run sports tournaments. “I was fortunate to play cricket, to play for Sri Lanka. When I had my troubles in Australia in 1995, the Sri Lankan people stood by me, supported me during those diffi cult years, where I worked hard to prove myself innocent of the charges. The people of Sri Lanka helped me a great deal and I thought then that I would do something to help them, too.

“I was actually there when the tsunami hit southern Sri Lanka in 2004. I was visiting a village near the coast with my wife and mother-in-law, delivering books for school children. We saw the sea was high in the distance, but suddenly people were running towards us. They didn’t know anything about tsunami, so when we asked them what was happening, they just said ‘the sea has come to land’. We ran away quickly. If we’d been 20 minutes later, the tsunami would have got us.”

Bringing up bats in the IPL

The development of young Australian cricketers hasn’t been quarantined from a fast-changing world. The difference from the system in the 1950s is dramatic but in recent years it’s occurred at a much quicker pace. The last exceptional Australian side began to disband when Shane Warne and Glenn McGrath retired in 2007. The first World T20 event was held later that year and up until then the development system for young Australian cricketers was evolving gradually. With the widespread growth of T20 leagues, the players now have an extra choice when it comes to earning a living and this also means having to choose a development direction from a more cluttered path. A young player now comes through a system that includes many structured net sessions, hours facing bowling machines or a coach wielding a “whanger”. All these sessions are closely monitored by a coach who has various technology aids to emphasise his point.

The system I grew up in had few structured net sessions and many hours of playing matches, whether they were in the backyard against my brother or at one of the many venues where pick-up games were available. There were no bowling machines, unless you count the thousands of balls thrown by our father, Martin. There were no whangers – we didn’t throw balls to the dog, we hit them and Champ gleefully chased them, diligently returning the missile – saliva and all – to his master.

The hours of playing matches were crucial in the development process. Without knowing it at the time, all sorts of information was being embedded in my brain which stood me in good stead when I later faced first-class and international bowlers. The coaching was at the weekend and it was from an excellent tutor in Lynn Fuller. This experience has led me to the conclusion that it is best to have good coaching, or none at all. Not having formal coaching allows a young cricketer to spend hours honing his skills and better understanding his own game. The careers of great players such as Sir Donald Bradman, Bill O’Reilly and Doug Walters all began in the bush where they unearthed their own particular way of developing skills.

As the modern young cricketer progresses, he reaches the stage of playing various level under-age matches and attending an academy. My academy was the backyard and the local playing fields. Soon after playing in my only under-age competition – an under 14 state carnival – I entered the realm of senior cricket, competing against men. This was a critical part of my development and it undoubtedly hastened my cricket education. On leaving school, I graduated to A-grade cricket in Adelaide where I competed with and against Test and interstate cricketers.

When Dennis Lillee walked into the Kingston Hotel in October of 1995, it was as if Dennis Lillee himself had walked into the Kingston Hotel. It was, for a Canberra kid, flat-out unbelievable. Dennis Lillee! In the Kingo! Our local! Even 26 years old and six schooners deep, I was the fan kid in Almost Famous when he clocks David Bowie. Lillee! It’s Dennis Lillee! My mate Pagey didn’t care. He bounded straight over. “Oi! Dennis Lillee!” declared Pagey and began yapping away like they were pals. And DK laughed at some bit of nonsense, and at the front of the bloke, and soon enough I was over there, in the great man’s orbit, shaking hands, unable to speak.

And he smiled that lop-sided Dennis Lillee smile, the one you’d seen on the beer ads, and said, “How are ya, son?” And I smiled back like a shy kid with Santa, and said nothing lest it come out a squeak. Mike Veletta was there too, laughing along with Pagey’s babble. Lillee’s fellow man of the west was in town to captain-coach the ACT Comets, the local boys playing their first season in the domestic one-day comp, the Mercantile Mutual Cup. Veletta was 31 and had played Tests and ODIs for Australia, and would’ve been a big enough deal for we cricket-mad locals. Turn up with Dennis Lillee and he was Mick Jagger’s wingman. Safe to say we didn’t get a lot of cricket in Canberra. Not the top stuff, anyway. We  did get the Prime Minister’s XI; Robert Menzies’ muse brought back to life by Bob Hawke because he knew Australians as John Singleton knew Australians. Singo knew what sold Winfield Blues and Tooheys Draught, and Hawkey knew what sold Hawkey. And in those days, as Kerry Packer would have attested with a vengeance, cricket sold. And those PM’s XI fixtures, for cricketstarved Canberrans, were magnificent.

The first one was against the mighty West Indies side of 1984. Viv Richards, Clive Lloyd, big Joel Garner, and all the rest of those ridiculous humans with their long limbs and languid moves, and other-worldly skill – they were so unbelievably cool. Their visit energised the town; the match was sold out. Three thousand people snuck in under the fence. Manuka Oval heaved. It was ridiculous: January day; hotter than hell. Man, it was good. Desmond Haynes fielded just in front of us, on the fence backward of square. He was our guy, diving around, smiling his head off. And every time he came back from some bit of adventure we’d cheer, “Dessie! You beauty!” And he’d laugh and wave, into it. It was so cool.

Kids were mad for those West Indians. For the Aussie team, too. A mate of a mate, Coyley, played locally for Easts and wore his cricket kit to the game: woolly jumper, thick white socks, Greg Chappell hat. And he stood outside the Australian team's dressing shed signing autographs. Quizzical kids lined up. Years later, a younger mate dug out his toy bat with all the autographs, and there between “Michael Holding” and “Greg Ritchie” was “Peter Coyle”. Out in the middle, another relatively anonymous cricketer, a squat Tasmanian called David Boon, was whacking big Joel down the ground on the way to 134. And in a summer in which the Windies’ quicks were more four-pronged killer attack squad than men, we bayed for this boy Boonie, and for the PM’s boys, and for Hawkey who’d made it happen. The great man took a walk inside the perimeter, lapping it up, a rubbery figure come to life, shamelessly in love with himself.

And we loved him for it. And Hawkey knew it. ScoMo? There can be only one. In 1990 came England, and mates and I had a gig selling ice creams at the PM’s XI. We worked out you could wedge a six-pack of VB in amongst the dry ice, and we’d sit there, watching cricket, selling Cornettos and sucking on VB stubbies. Now and again you’d chant “Ice cream!” and down they’d come, the people. And I got half-pissed watching Allan Border belt the Poms around Manuka. At stumps, I was paid 150 bucks cash. Still the greatest job I’ve ever had. Another was operating Manuka’s Jack Fingleton scoreboard. They’d brought it up from the MCG, plank by plank, this great, hulking old banger, heritage-listed. And mates and I would sit inside it, shirtless, sweating up a treat, drinking tinnies, watching cricket.

One day saw a young Michael Bevan belt a ton against Wayne “Cracker” Holdsworth, bowling heat for NSW seconds. Cracker was short, skiddy and rapid. He was Malcolm Marshall without the guile. And without the Malcolm Marshall. But he bolted in and let rip, Cracker. And he was quick. At least he was this day, bouncing Bevan and the Canberra boys. In the same match, Marty Haywood who’d taken plenty of Cracker because, truth be told, Bevo didn’t much fancy it – was run out in the shadows of stumps as Bevo scurried back to the non-striker’s end. And I can still hear Haywood’s bull moose roar of “craaaaap!” reverberating around the empty concrete stands of Manuka Oval. And I thought, “My but I love this game.” And I love this ground. And now Manuka’s got a Test match. Little Canberra has become.

Canberra has four distinct seasons. Autumn is dead leaves. Spring is blossoms. Winter is colder than Krakow by night. And summer is just hot. Broken Hill hot. It’s a dry, “bush” heat. It’s African savannah. It’s scorched earth. It’s stinkin’. And you played cricket in it because that’s just what you did. And you watched cricket. And you lived and loved it.

We played on “synthetic” wickets which were concrete strips overlaid by “AstroTurf” of various plumage. They could be bouncy as bejeezus. A top-edged cut shot would soar into space. Not a lot of seam. But bounce, baby, bounce. The turf wickets could be a bit how-you-goin’, as they say. Shades of the old MCG: shooters, bounders, rip-snorters. Ordinary, lot of ’em. And a lot of ordinary bowlers got wickets. Outfield grass was generally long because it was cold at night, and wouldn’t grow back if you cut it. Thus, batters did their best.

Yet a steady drip of first-class cricketers has come out of the joint, punctuated by the odd Michael Bevan and Brad Haddin. Greg Rowell bowled accurate fast-meds for NSW, Queensland and Tasmania. Wayne Andrews went to WA and played 91 Sheffield Shield games. Mark Higgs bowled left-arm wristspin and gave it a whack for the Blues, once belting 181 not against Queensland. Nathan Lyon came from Young to pilot Manuka’s mowers before doing the same at Adelaide after Les Burdett.

Largely, though, the very good ones stayed, big fish in a small pond. Few reasons: there were plenty of players like them in Sydney grade cricket; there wasn’t money enough to uproot a family to chase a dream; in Canberra there were public service jobs forever that gave you time off to play. And it was fun to play for the ACT.

Brad Bretland kept wicket for the ACT. You haven’t seen a bloke with quicker hands, whipping bails off standing up to the quicks. He played indoor cricket for Australia. Unbelievable eye, reflexes. Peter Solway holds the record for most games and runs for the ACT, and most games and runs in the ACT comp. He played in the PM’s XI of ’93-’94 alongside young guns Hayden, Langer, Ponting. Fellow local legend Greg Irvine played in the PM’s XI two days before Christmas 1987. Took 5/42 swinging the ball both ways before going down swinging in a run chase against Richard Hadlee, bookended in the batting order by ME Waugh, DW Hookes and AR Border. Solway says there were a couple of nibbles from Sydney but things were progressing nicely in Canberra. The Country Championships had kicked off. There were regular tours and second XI fixtures. And in ’95 came the Mercantile Mutual comp. “And I had a decent job, I was married,” he says. “It crossed my mind to move to Sydney. But I suppose I didn’t want it bad enough.” Was he good enough? Solway reckons he’d have backed himself. Yet the NSW team was a tough nut to crack. “The era I came through of under-17s and under-19s – and I don’t know if it put me off – but the NSW team was Taylor, Waugh, Waugh, McNamara and a heap of guys.

“I don’t regret [staying]. I’m happy with how things have panned out. Was I good enough? I dunno. I probably would’ve backed myself. But until you do, you don’t know.” Mike Veletta believes Solway was “easily” first-class level. “He was one of those great blokes who was happy doing what he was doing. He worked for the government, he was content, his family was entrenched in the community. There’s no doubt – temperament, nous, technique – he would’ve thrived at first-class level.” After Solway, Irvine and company, however, came a generation of cricketers for whom there was a genuine pathway and opportunity to play up. They were my generation – let’s call them the under-19s of ’89-’90. These talented ones could get amongst it at the AIS or the academy in Adelaide. Michael Bevan was of this generation. You played against Bevo, he was left-arm quick. Going across you, bending it back in – he was a bit bloody good, Bevo. Scary, even. A singular fellow, but a good fellah. He could bat, sure – but there were batters better.

One played in his own team – Huntley Armstrong, a Greg Ritchie-shaped belter with Shane Warne’s mullet. In a semi-final at Rivett Oval, my Woden Valley under-16s played Huntley’s Weston Creek. Bevo wasn’t playing, there was a soccer tournament on. But they still had plenty. Bunch of blokes would play U19s for ACT. But Huntley was the wicket.

On 20-odd on a ridiculously, freezing cold March day (truly, it was maybe six degrees, sleeting, wind-chill factor hideous), Huntley smashed our Laxman-wristed leg-spinner Michael Streat one thousand yards into space. I waited for it to come down. And waited. No-one thought I’d catch it – me included. Damn thing soared towards me like an ice comet. But I pouched it, somehow, and punched the air, and we knocked off the Creek, the hot faves. And all the dads said over again, “catches win matches”. And Huntley’s mum declared, “It’s all Michael Bevan’s fault!”

Week later in the grand final against St Edmund’s, another top player from that class of ’89, Marty Haywood, was on maybe 42 when he smashed Streaty high, and long, and way out to cow corner. And there waited I – The Hero of Rivett – underneath it. Beautiful day. Saw it all the way. Grassed the bastard. And watched our man Marty go on to plunder 157 not out and win the game. And that, as the cricket gods would tell you, is cricket.

Haywood went to Campbelltown and onwards to Mosman, where he captained the club for 20-some years. He would play 13 matches for NSW when the Waugh twins were playing for Australia. That was his competition in the Blues’ middle order: the bloody Waughs. Today, a good one would’ve gone to Tassie or somewhere. Haywood stayed and notched his highest score, 97, at the Junction Oval. And you play golf with him today and there’s longing behind his eyes. Huntley went to Adelaide and the academy there, and stayed on playing grade cricket. He played a couple of one-dayers for South hero of mine, David Hookes. Michael Bevan went to Sydney, and fashioned a fairly decent career in the game. Today there are several ex-Canberrans playing first-class cricket, such as Will Sheridan (Victoria), Jason Behrendorff (WA), Jason Floros (Queensland), Nick Winter (SA) and Tom Rogers (Tasmania). It’s always been the same – and it’s the same for those from Townsville, Geraldton, Innamincka – you want to be taken seriously, you leave. And until the ACT gets a Sheffield Shield team, that’s how it will stay. And that’s why they want one.

Mike Veletta had played 12 years of first-class cricket when it was put to him that he might like to captain-coach the fledgling one-day team called the ACT Comets in the Mercantile Mutual Cup. There was a job in property with a reputable firm. There was a chance to learn about coaching. It ticked a few boxes. But jeez, it was different to Perth. “They flew my wife and I over to Canberra in July, and you can imagine the weather,” Veletta remembers. “It was horrible. Four days later we got on the flight home, my wife said, ‘Thanks for that – I don’t need to see any more.’

“A month later we were there.” The move was still a punt for Veletta. The Comets were still an idea, there wasn’t actual confirmation that they’d be a firstclass entity. Yet he rocked up for pre-season training and learned things were done a little differently in the Bush Capital.

“I was told the first pre-season game was always against Manly, and they’d always stay at the Steyne Hotel,” says Veletta. “It wasn’t going to be a typical cricket tour. So we played against Manly and spent a long weekend at the pub! It was pointless going to bed early. It was a great way to get to know your team-mates and a great introduction to ACT cricket.”

Veletta was allocated a local club, Weston Creek, and was expected to dominate. Yet conditions were so different to Perth that he battled. “The pitches were average, really. Average bowlers could get wickets. It took me a while to work it out.” But he grew to love it. He was captaining guys for whom the interstate one-day competition would be the highlight of their careers. He found it refreshing that people played for love alone, and were proud to represent a tight-knit community.

Yet after three seasons and 18 one-day matches, the Comets were axed. Solway blames politics. And Cricket Australia. And a few other things. “Cricket Australia [then the Australian Cricket Board] showed a lack of vision,” Solway says. “It was shortsighted. It was voted on by states thinking about what they had to lose rather than the good of Australian cricket. Denis Rogers from Tasmania was chairman of the board. He drove it. Tasmania and South Australia were thinking about what they had to lose.

“We had players coming to Canberra to get an opportunity. Instead of going to Tassie, they were coming here. We were always keen to play first-class cricket. And I reckon it scared people. “But more teams wouldn’t weaken the standard. Australia’s had the same six state teams forever. Cricket’s set in its ways. And look how we’re going.” The Comets had their supporters. Alan Crompton was one. Geoff Lawson was coach of NSW and saw the ACT as a good destination for kids from his region of Wagga Wagga and the Riverina.

“I asked people on the cricket board why the team was axed and their responses were very political,” says Veletta. “It didn’t make sense. In regional cricket, the ACT could’ve played a huge role. I always thought for all the country guys between Sydney and Melbourne, the one-day comp would’ve been a great stepping stone.” In terms of cricket competition, though, the territory was, and remains, a fairly poor cousin to the metropolitan centres. It’s seen as a nudge above the comps in Newcastle, Ballarat, Sunshine Coast. Sydney boys will tell you Futures League games against the ACT are like hard first-grade games. Good cricket – nothing you can’t cop.

Today the Comets – which played its last, first-class 50-over matches in February of 2000 – are the ACT/NSW Country Comets and play List A Futures League fixtures against state second XIs, academies, and various mobs of young turks. Locals lament that the Comets are a de facto NSW side. Trent Copeland recently played “back”. There was a Comets teams that played recently, didn’t have any ACT players in it. And this when Sydney grade cricket’s yearning for their people. One assumes Pat Howard’s KPIs are being ticked. “It disappoints me that the Futures comp is ACT and NSW combined,” says Veletta.

More on IPL can be found on https://iplnewslatest.blogspot.com/

#cricket #ipl #ipl 2019

[unrulyrp]

❛ IF you weren’t already aware, this is ASHANTI LEE! They’re 20 years old and from ATLANTA, GA. ASHANTI is often told that they bear a striking resemblance to AMOURJAYDA but, they don’t see it! They also sound a lot like JT OF THE CITY GIRLS but that’s just a coincidence.

〘  HISTORY!  〙

One thing that Ashanti has always been was driven. Growing up her mother taught her that nobody was going to give her anything and that she had to get everything by herself. Of course, there were going to be people along the way to help you but why would she want to give anybody else credit for her success? If she wasn’t in school, she was hustling on the streets of Atlanta. Everyone on her block knew her for her wild sense of style and hair colors, and after a few requests from people; she began selling and doing people’s hair. It wasn’t long before she had a long clientele which became tedious and worked her nerves, but she needed the money if she wanted to fund her own ideas and dreams. She dedicated her time to getting her business going so she could save up the money to do what’d her and her friend had been talking about since she was a senior in high school: pay for their studio time and laying down a few tracks. Ashanti was known for playfully freestyling in school but once her friend, MICHAEL BROOKS, told her that she was actually good and convinced her that they should start a group, she agreed. She figured that she didn’t have anything to lose and she had other skills to fall back on if anything were to happen. At first the two of them took it as a joke, but once the girls popped off, they took it serious. Before they even could process the whole thing their songs were being played on Snapchat, Instagram, and the radio. People were hitting them up to do club appearances and shows and they realized that they were going to need a team to help them with their new life. After a few offers, the girls settled on signing with STNE ENT. Ashanti was weary of signing to the label after hearing all of the rumors and kind of publicity it was getting but it was the only label that had both the girl’s interest in mind as well as them having other Atlanta natives on it as well.

〘  CELL PHONE!  〙

OUTGOING TEXT to DESSI  ― “This bitch late again. I MUST BE A JOKE, BRUH.”

MISSED CALL from MANAGER ― (2) times.

INCOMING VOICEMAIL from MICHAELA  ― “Sis, can you answer my calls so I can tell you what happened?”

〘  NETWORKING! 〙

MICHAELA BROOKS ― ( group member ) ― With the girls history, Ashanti knew that she could depend on her and vice versa. Together, the girls knew that they were going to make history and bring something different to the table. Nobody in their state was doing things like they were and they were definitely the first artists to pop off so quick and be able to go out to LA so soon. Their success has brought the good and the bad but they have no intention on letting it get between them making their money and going to the top.

JOEL MORENO ― ( pen-pal ) ―  During her come up, Ashanti found herself reaching out to people that she knew that was locked up and felt alone during their time. On that list was Joel. Their friendship developed slowly but ended up becoming strong with each letter. And Joel felt as if it was refreshing to have someone appreciate him for who he was. Once he got out of jail, there talking began to cease and the two haven’t spoken until she heard that about a new model in LA that happened to be him.  

XAVIER STONE ― ( mentor ) ― One thing that Ashanti couldn’t deny was that the team at STNE ENT were good at selling themselves to potential artists. It was like Xavier knew that she wasn’t sure about her groups place at STNE and if they had their best intentions in mind. Xavier made it his mission to reassure Ashanti and told her that her group would be overseen by him. His interest in The City Girls made her feel comfortable with him and she knew that he wouldn’t mess them over. Ever since their first meeting, Ashanti and Michaela have been reporting to Xavier for assistance when it comes to their music and their creative direction.

#𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖘. ╾ closed females.

[fanfic-chan]

For the October event, I'd go with 6 (cuddles) and Gorou and Kazuha as characters

Take care!! 🌸

Day 6: Cuddles

Ler!Kazuha/Lee!Gorou

"Why are you so giggly all of a sudden?"

Kazuha asked curiously, still absentmindedly running his fingers through his doglike friend's hair as they watched the nightsky, the traveller and her little friend having already turned in for the night.

"Hehe-Hehehe! S-Sorry! It's just- My ears! You're tihihihickling them!" The general explained, cheeks flushing a little as he said this, clearly embarrassed. Kazuha, for his part, merely hummed in understanding of the admission, a small, playful smile making it's way onto his face as he started to scratch at the base of his friend's ears a little more deliberately now. Gorou whined.

"Kazuhahaha! Q-Quit it! Th-Thihihis is childish! And yohou're gonna wake the trahahaveler!" He argued, swatting halfheartedly at the samurai's hands, though it was clear that he wasn't really trying all that hard to make him stop, and his wagging tail wasn't exactly helping his case either.

"Hmm, perhaps it is a little childish, yes?" Kazuha admitted, "But is it not true that endulging your inner child a little on occasion can be beneficial to one's soul as well?

And besides, I'm sure the traveller wouldn't mind being woken so much if it meant seeing you like this."

Unable to find a proper coherent answer to his friend's words, Gorou instead chose to cover his face with his hands, turning his head away to hide in Kazuha's chest as he giggled and laughed into the peaceful night air.

#tickletober2022 #sfw #sfw tickling #genshin impact tickling #ler!kazuha #lee!gorou #dessie's pals #italeean 💚🤍❤️

[llilly15]

Ode to joy

Of my memories of growing up, the ones that cling like moss to a live oak all harken back to my adventures in Florida’s backcountry. Mind you, I was born and raised in Jacksonville. But fate would have it that my older brother loathed the call of the wild.

Having reached puberty, he had no interest in humoring my dad by traipsing through the scrub, fishing fruitlessly in a leaky boat, baiting set hooks in the dead of night, or meandering dirt roads to visit fellow Crackers in some quiet, crossroads town where the only entertainment was a post office, a general store, a schoolhouse, a beer hall, and a church or two.  My mother was similarly inclined to avoid such pursuits. By default, it became my job.  

I abandoned any thought of becoming a girly-girl. The aspiration was too impractical. Had the traditional notion of a woman’s place prevailed, the utility my apprenticeship was, at best, doubtful. But my dad was having none of that. He was determined I would be well-versed in the minutia of what he reverently described as “Florida living.”

Instead of embroidery, I learned to thread worms on a hook. Instead of ballet, I learned to pirouette a cast and land a plug where a bass was helpless to resist. Instead of pummeling opponents in tennis, I learned to grand-slam a squirrel at 50 yards, skin it, gut it and cook it up real nice, too.

My closest pal was a girl my age who lived in the tiny community of Interlachen, east of Gainesville. She was the youngest of two sisters, the older of which, like my brother, disdained the great outdoors. I imagine our two father-hunter-gatherers commiserated on their mutual need for son-like companionship. Daughters would have to do.

Every summer, I stayed with my friend for weeks at a time. With one horse between us, we explored the vastness of the surrounding scrub. We drank from artesian wells, fished hidden lakes, paddled across watery prairies, and picked oranges in abandoned groves.

“Florida living,” deeply ingrained itself in me. And like most Floridians for whom these memories resonate, I didn’t realize this version of Florida had gone missing until it had almost disappeared. Still, there are places evocative of by-gone Cracker life: The Cross Creek farmstead of Pulitzer Prize-winning author and novelist, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings is one. It is on the National Registry of Historic Places and designated as a Florida State Historical Park.

Rawlings bought the 76-acre farmstead and orange grove with her husband in 1928.   He went the way of the Carolina parakeet, but Rawlings dug in. She wrenched a living out of the place, using the backcountry to augment her pantry while doggedly pursuing her success as an author. It took her ten years to find her voice as a writer. She found it in her own backyard, chronicling Florida living, Cracker-style, most famously, in the American classic “The Yearling,” published in 1938. Other memorable novels and expositions include “Cross Creek” and “Cross Creek Cookery,” two of my favorites. This year is the 75th anniversary of their publication.  

Like so many others, Rawlings was a Florida transplant. A northerner by birth, she visited here, liked what she saw, and stayed. The root might not have taken but for her friendship with Dessie Smith Prescott.

Prescott was a Floridian by birth and the epitome of a genuine, Cracker pioneer woman.

She was orphaned as a young girl in the flu epidemic in 1918 and survived living by her wits and off the land in the backwoods of Alachua County. She earned a reputation as a “gritty native sportswoman who could shoot, hunt and fish as well as men”—at the time, quite an admission.

She sold cars, flew planes, and ran a business guiding fishing and hunting expeditions deep into Florida’s backcountry. It was Prescott who got Rawlings up to speed in the arts of hunting and fishing, educating her about Florida’s wild. Rawlings wrote about Prescott and their adventures together in her autobiography, “Cross Creek.”

These women immortalized Cracker life in the state’s history. Both were inducted into the Florida Women’s Hall of Fame, in 1986 and 1999, respectively.

My own memories of Florida living and the lives of Rawlings and Prescott are an ode to joy. When the world goes awry, as it surely has now, we need the touchstone of places and memories that still deeply matter in a fundamental way.

Wendell Berry, a Kentucky farmer, poet, and environmentalist, wrote a poem expressing this longing for spiritual solace when the despair for the world grows too large within us.

At such times, he writes, “I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.  I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time, I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.”

Exactly.

#Floridaliving #FloridaWeekly #CrossCreek #MarjorieKinnanRawlings

[fanfic-chan]

Honestly I get scared and casually talks about murder vibes

HELPPP

Scared I low-key expected.

Talking casually about murder kinda threw me but honestly? Makes sense with the amount of anime I watch.

Plus I'm in constant terror of being murdered in some weird way that I'll have to explain to God afterwards so that definitely plays a part 😭🤣

#dessie talks #dessie's pals #ducky 🦆 #dessie's moots #ask games

[fanfic-chan]

Number 13-Blush with Thomato Lupical! Pls pls pls 🙏🏻 (*^o^)／🍡🍡＼(^-^*) dango bribe!👉🏻👈🏻

Day 13: Blush

Ler!Ayato/Lee!Thoma

"Oh my Thoma, are you blushing?"

Ayato chuckled as the housekeeper merely went redder in response to his question, rather than answering verbally. "Really, there's no need to be so embarrassed. I meant what I said about how reliable you are. I truly had no intention to tease you... This time. Though I am sorry if I embarrassed you." The clanhead said honestly as he walked up to his flustered subordinate, who was currently busying himself with the dishes in an attempt to distract himself.

"I- I know that my lord! There's no need for you to apologize, really. I'm sorry, it's just... You said it in front of all those guests, and I suppose It's erm... just a little flustering, that's all." The blonde admitted, rubbing the back of his head bashfully as he finished drying the last piece of silverware from tonight's business dinner.

"Ah. I see then. So you were embarrassed." Ayato hummed thoughtfully, a playful smile pulling at his lips when the poor housekeeper only went redder, somehow.

"Y-Yes, my Lord. I suppose that's it." Thoma stammered out honestly, hesitantly turning away from the sink to look at his employer, only to gasp in surprise when he suddenly came face to face with him. When had he gotten so close?!

"Ah, that is understandable" Ayato continued on, seeming completely unfazed by Thoma's shock, "Though I must say, I'm a tad dissapointed that my words failed to have the intended affect. Perhaps I could make it up to you in some way?" Ayato suggested, the playful glint in his eye betraying his kind tone, "Y'know, like when we were younger~?"

It took a moment for Thoma to realize what the other man meant, but then it registered. A dozen or more old memories suddenly resurfacing of a much younger Ayato tickling him to near tears anytime he felt he had wronged him in some miniscule way, because according to Ayato, "What better way to repay someone than to make them laugh?" Though, in all honesty, Thoma really thought he was just using that as an excuse to tease him.

"I-I really don't think that'll be nehehecessary my lord, really..." He said, a nervous grin already starting to spread across his face. He tried to take a step back, only to find himself trapped between his friend and the counter. Ayato grinned.

"Oh but I insist, it's really no trouble at all Thoma." The commissioner insisted, "After all, it simply wouldn't do for me to leave this matter unresolved now would it?"

"A-AH!! M-My lord! Wait! Hohohold on! Nohohoho!!" Thoma didn't get a chance to finish his response before he was suddenly being wrestled to the floor and pinned there, Ayato's fingers digging into his sides playfully as he smiled down at him, "Hahahaha!! Stahahahapihihit!! Aha- Ahahahahayatoo"

"Ah. I'm afraid I can't do that Thoma, I do owe you a good laugh afterall, and it has been a while since we've done this no? Why not make up for lost time then?" Ayato grinned, and so they stayed that way, Ayato continuing to tease and play around with his giggling friend, just as they'd done many times before in those early days when Thoma had first arrived.

#tickletober2022 #sfw #sfw tickling #genshin impact tickling #ler!ayato #lee!thoma #dessie's pals #thomato 🍅

[fanfic-chan]

For the ask game: can we get Cell 13 (Uno, Rock, Nico and Jyugo) from Nanbaka? :3

Happy holidays friend!

OMG OMG OMG YESSSS!! A NANBAKA ASKKKK!! TYSM SQUIGGILY!! This show is honestly soooo underrated and I love getting to talk about these boys any chance I get! Also gonna tag @stopiteatpopcorn since they're the one that introduced me to the show in the first place!!^^

Uno: Literally the only decent wrapper in the whole cell. Between both his impressive coordination skills as a gambler and his passion for looking good, he always puts a lot of effort into his wrapping and it shows. Likes to rub his superior wrapping abilities in the others' faces a lot lol.

Rock: It's not... Bad, per say? Just, a little on the rougher side of things. Like, it looks fine, but you can definitely tell that his aren't quite as straight as Uno's are, and he also has a bad habit of ripping the paper on accident so to avoid having to rewrap it, he'll just tape another piece over the hole and say it's done pfft.

Nico: You know how it looks whenever a young child is wrapping a gift for the very first time? That super sloppy lump that looks more like a balled up piece of trash than a gift? Yeah. That's how Nico wraps gifts. Poor Uno has been trying for years to help him improve but it's no use. He always ends up getting ahead of himself because he's excited. It's ok though. Atleast he tries?^^`

Jyugo: Straight up can't wrap. The one time he tried, he ended up having to be rescued by Hajime because he somehow got so tangled up in the wrapping paper and tape that he got stuck and couldn't get out of it. Ever since that incident, Seitarou just brings him gift bags to use. The others still laugh at him for this.

Ask me here!^^ (OPEN)

#dessie talks #dessie's pals #squiggily 💖 #ask games #christmas asks #rock nanbaka #uno nanbaka #nico nanbaka #jyuugo nanbaka #nanbaka

[fanfic-chan]

HONK HONK * SQUEEZES CLOWN NOSE* CLOWNIKIDA

That is absolutely terrifying. Hence why I am answering this publicly, so that all my followers will also have to suffer the same horror I feel as well. Sorry guys, but it must be done.

#dessie talks #dessie's pals #rando 🍿 #i hate it thanks #poor kunikida what have they done to you

[fanfic-chan]

Just wanted to say that @rattypattyy is an absolute meanie... and that we all love her for it very much <3

#dessie talks #dessie's pals #rip me and rando #been bullying us on call for the last hour or so #the audacity of this yanfei-loving rodent queen >:( #ratty 🐀 #rando 🍿

[fanfic-chan]

What if instead of him elbowing Kaeya, he would tickle him until he starts talking good about himself, basically.

Kaeya: I really shouldn't exi-AHAHAH!?!

Diluc, tickling his ribs in a claw pose: Don't speak of yourself so lowly, now, smile~

OH MY GOD THAT'S ACTUALLY ADORABLE HELP

And Diluc would just have this deadpan look on his face the whole time and continue reading because they've already been over this so many times, but he's smiling on the inside.

Meanwhile Kaeya is just like, "HEHEHEEEEELP?!???!?"

#dessie talks #dessie's pals #sfw #sfw tickling #ratty 🐀 #genshin impact tickling #ler!diluc #lee!kaeya #headcanons