#Square Trampolines

[sunseed-fandump]

Every good circus needs a Big Top! And this here is the tent used by the Liar's Circus! But don't be fooled by its small size, the interior is guaranteed to blow any circus fan away! All forms of entertainment can be found within!

Nobody can put a price tag on FUN! So everything is free for the taking! Just step through the door!

Eat, drink, be merry! Let your emotions fly as high as the trapeze!

All that energy will soon be put to better use...

More information about the individual areas under the cut!

ARENA

This is the central area where most performances are given. From clowning around to acrobatic feats that boggle the mind, it's all done here! All paths around the circus lead back to this area, so it is also typically considered "the crossroads" of the circus.

The path to the Arena from the entrance runs through a gauntlet of concessions and gift stands. So many wonderful treats on display almost makes it feel like a dream.

Zoo

All manner of strange creatures are kept within the cages. Summoned from the great beyond lie beasts twisted by shadows and kissed by the forbidden reaches. Lions? Tigers? Bears? Those are nothing compared to what lurks behind the steel bars...

Games Square

Up for a challenge? The Games Square is the perfect place to show off one's skills. Tests of strength, dexterity, and intelligence can be found here. And don't worry about losing, everyone is sure to walk away with a wonderful prize! Just.. Be careful not to get lost in the hall of mirrors.

Playground

This area is for those who crave some good old-fashioned fun. The map really doesn't do it justice. A beautiful carousel spins all day long, filling the air with joyous music. Slides, swings, and various other pieces of equipment offer plenty of ways to play, play, play! So run around! Scream and shout! Let out all that pent-up energy!

Theater

Beautiful tear-jerking performances and awe-inspiring tales are spun on this stage. There's never a shortage of stories! All of them were written by the world's finest playwright, poet, director, actor, clown-- Huh? Who is he? Our beloved Ringmaster of course!

Staff Area

This is where Gingerbrave, Strawberry Cookie, and Wizard Cookie stay. Each performer gets their own tent, filled with all the basic comforts a hard-working cookie needs. Of course, they're tailored to the individual interests of each child as well. Wizard has a cozy little tower filled with books. Strawberry has all sorts of games to keep her occupied. As for Gingerbrave, he's got toys, crayons, and even a whole trampoline in there! The kids are certainly comfortable.

Ok, that's all cool but what's ACTUALLY going on in there?

The answer to that is simple, this plane exists to gather energy for Shadow Milk Cookie. Magic is tied to emotion. So the more excited the guests feel, the more life energy Shadow Milk collects from them. Everything here is perfectly harmless (to guests), as the point is to only illicit strong emotions of thrill, excitement, and joy.

Guests are free to come and go as they please, but when they do leave, everyone feels especially drained.

And if the circus faces a tough crowd? Well, fear is also a viably strong emotion to gather energy from.

The only Cookies in the tent who Shadow Milk Cookie does not collect energy from is the kids. As they need their strength to perform and complete whatever tasks are given to them.

Cookies who are labeled as "Intruders" will have a horde of phantoms, animals, and puppets come down on them from all sides, and that's not even counting how Shadow Milk can control everything and anything inside. So it's best not to pick a fight unless one is prepared...

[novasintheroom]

Touch me gently (Vash x Reader)

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 3k

♡ Warnings - mentions of having future children at the end

♡ Description: A drabble of various touches between you and Vash the Stampede as your relationship grows.

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3 (separated into different chapters, as indicated in brackets)

Hands (056. Turn)

Neither of you are very touchy people.

Vash because he has to be careful.

You because you’ve never liked it.

It suits you both fine; neither of you signed on to the job to be touchy.

The boss wants a survey of a nearby gulch and valley. Hopes to find some good land for investment – water or oil or to build some new town with his name. You, the cartographer for the job. Vash, one of your hired bodyguards. The other two men look the part – grizzled, tough. Mercs. Vash stands out with his frame, the bold red coat. Still a merc, but he looks at you kindly, and you take to him as only a nervous scholar can. Some kind of comfort, if only in your head.

You shake the bodyguards’ hands. Vash’s is warm and a little clammy. You turn and do your best to not stare at the old-tech arm at his side. How curious, still.

/~*~\

Arms (053. Emporium)

The town square is full of life.

The other two mercs have gone off elsewhere to find booze or girls or bullets. Vash weaves on ahead. Always light on his feet, careful to dodge stray hands and still looking at everything with a smile. He’s careful to keep you in the corner of his eye. He loves this. He loves people. He’s in his element – one of them, anyway.

You, little scholar, are not. The crowds push in on the emporium – marketeers hocking their wares and greedy eyes follow your steps. You keep one hand on your purse. All walks of life brush past, children running around, toma pulling carts and calling out. Something lets out a boom, and there’s cheering down the street. Colored smoke rises from a stall with a dizzying aroma. It’s overwhelming, it’s more than you’re used to.

“Vash!” You call out. He doesn’t hear you.

Quiet halls with old paper and ink. The shuffle of pages, someone reading their research under their breath. Old tech flickering to life with a hum. Echoed rooms and soft music playing. That’s where you belong. That’s your safe space. Your element is so far away in this press.

A group of women pass between you and Vash. You lose sight of him. It’s jarring, how used to that red you’ve become, looking at it for some sort of comfort. He’s further ahead now, looking at a stall selling old tech baubles. You reach for him, that beacon of red, catching the crook of his arm and weaving your own through before you can think, before you can lose him again. He stills and looks down at you. Your jaw sets, your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You glance up, and ask with a look, Is this okay? Please let it be okay.

And he thinks for a moment. His heart warms. Squeezing your arm with his own, he pulls you closer to his side as you both step back into the throng. Yeah, it’s okay.

/~*~\

Feet (033. Trampoline)

Five months into knowing Vash, and you’re at his heels more than you ever were at your mother’s. Mostly to keep him out of trouble, but still.

The backs of his heels meet the sky more times than any grown man’s should. Summersaulting through the air to escape bullets, grabbing hands, the loss of freedom. You dog at him the entire time, your own feet pounding, pounding, pounding to keep up.

Vash meets the edge of a building, and he cries out, arms pinwheeling to keep him up. You lunge, snagging his ankles as he pitches forward. His weight pulls you, and you both fall. Luckily – as Vash’s luck often goes, metronoming from one extreme to the other – you land on a market stall’s tarped ceiling, bouncing once, twice, a makeshift trampoline. Now both of your feet are reaching for the sky.

Vash’s breath comes in and out like bellows. Yours isn’t better. In the distance, you hear shouts, screams, cries from the mob trying to hunt down the Humanoid Typhoon. You know you need to move. The stall owner is peering up at you strangely from beneath his tarp.

Still, Vash finds the time to look over at you and say, “You shouldn’t have done this.” ‘This’ meaning follow him, of course. A tired argument at this point, like he can’t get enough of saying it.

And you, you know you shouldn’t have. You have no business following an outlaw like him. Scholars stay hidden in their nooks and crannies and don’t do things like jump from building-to-building chasing after that waving red flag. You should focus on being a librarian, hand out books to word-starved children, build the world into a better place. Be who you should be.

You look back at him, a moment of stillness settling in your bones. “And let you have all the fun?” You shake your head. “No.”

A spark of something in his eyes. Clarity? Realization? He won’t tell you to this day, but his lips quirk up, and he drags you off the tarp and down to the ground. You both race off, leaving the bewildered shop keep staring after your dwindling figures.

/~*~\

Stomach (001. Trust)

It’s been a long day. The winds howl at the mouth of the cave, spitting dust and bits of sand like an angry cat. You and Vash set up camp deep within.

Dark with only a small electric lantern at your side, it’s hard to see the ink in your book. You don’t want to sit up to look at it, though. You squint. Vash finishes laying out his sleeping bag at your feet. He’s already set up some line and sound trap measures at the cave’s opening. No one needs to keep watch tonight.

 “We should get you a new book in the next town,” Vash says idly, “that one has pages falling out of it.”

 An old topic of chatter. “That’s because it’s well-loved,” you hum.

“You’re going to love it to death.”

You smile and raise the book to look at him. He’s set up near your legs, getting his sleeping bag ready and as comfortable as it can get on a stone floor. “Trust me,” you laugh. “I’d rather have it go like that than –“

And suddenly, he scoots up and puts his head on your stomach. A little pillow to use instead of his coat. You’re shocked, finger holding your place in the book as you look his way. He peaks back, a shy glint of blue in the lamplight. Is this okay?

Please let it be okay.

His head bounces when you laugh. You return to your book and knock his head gently with your other hand. Yeah, it’s okay.

/~*~\

Shoulders (082. Warmth)

His broad shoulders are distracting.

Burning white and too-hot already, the morning suns accentuate the curve of his neck, the slope of his back, tapering to a slim waist. Vash curls into a yoga pose in the shade of the outcropping, stretching his muscles and limbering up his joints. He’s shed his coat for the moment. Even he feels the heat today.

You feel a different heat. One you’re trying to not freak out over.

Since when has he been that built?

Your mind scrambles to get ahold of itself. That’s your friend, you think, chiding the rampant girlish thoughts of Holy Hannah, he’s hot.

Of course he’s also hot. Of course! It’s not enough that he’s kind to a fault and genuinely funny. And cute. His face is very cute. You purse your lips and force yourself to stare down at your notebook. You almost gag when you notice you’ve been doodling his figure this entire time, rather than writing notes of your latest escapade from town.

What are you, a schoolgirl?

Guiltily, you look up and watch him stretch his arms to the sky, from one side to the next. His eyes are dull, thoughts turned inward. You trace his shoulders again. They aren’t perfectly rounded – more square, and there are things underneath that slightly bulge and catch on his shirt when he moves. You eye those parts, wondering what it is that makes those shapes.

What’s under there?

Blue eyes suddenly flick to you, and you’re caught red-handed staring. But Vash, ever forgiving, ever one to give someone the benefit of the doubt, gives you a sincere smile. “Why don’t you join me? It could help!”

A blush’s warmth crawls up your back. Help? With what? “Oh,” you say aloud, realizing he means your own limberness needs some work. “Well, sure,” comes out before you think about it, and you put your notebook on your bag, padding over to him on bare feet.

He smiles, dimples in his cheeks. “Do you know how to do the cobra pose?” He’s testing the waters, unsure of how much you know. Vash lays flat on his stomach and bends his body upward. You follow him, feeling your abs and shoulders stretching. “Breathe in…and out…”

And that’s how it goes for a while; Vash teaching you new and old yoga poses, and you trying not to ogle your friend. Not what you expected today – but when does living with Vash ever turn out the way you expected?

/~*~\

Lips (097. Sinking)

The first time, it’s an accident.

You’re both pressed into a crevice in a canyon, fleeing a large worm set on making you its meal. The rock digs into your spine, and Vash is squished to your front, trying to be the shield. The worm screams and screams and breaks against the crack. Pebbles and sand rain down from above.

Vash leans down and shouts, “I think - !! – should – “

“What?!” You scream back.

Vash lowers his head just as you stretch to hear better. Your lips touch, his moving with his message and yours open in terror. Even then, you note how chapped his lips are. “We need to climb!” He starts climbing the sheer rock wall that shakes with every shove of the worm. All you can do is follow.

The second time is a coincidence.

It’s a dance at a bar. One of the many you and Vash have been to. Line dancing, dancing with partners, dancing alone – all on the docket. It happens when he’s leading you down the clapping line, cheek to cheek. He’s singing with the song, leading you back and forth and getting the crowd laughing with how he spins and twirls you, then how you dip him like a lady. You nearly drop him. He screams like a girl. You both lurch toward the other and your lips collide.

The crowd roars in approval, even if it only lasted half a second. There’re pats on the back, winks from the ladies, before you’re shoved back in line and the incident is moved to the back of everyone’s mind in favor of more drink and dancing. Vash’s cheeks flush every time your eyes meet.

“Sorry about that,” he says later, when you’re both stumbling to your rooms and the noise downstairs has died down. His hand is to his neck. Bashful. “You know, the whole…” he gestures with his hand, moving it from his mouth to yours in the air.

“No, I, uh – no, it’s fine,” you stammer, feeling your own heat of embarrassment. But you laugh to ease the tension, “Hey, best kiss I’ve ever had!” Your jaw snaps shut, teeth rattling, and before you can say anything else, you flee into your room with a squeaky “Goodnight!” following the door slam.

Vash flushes, staring at your door. His heart thuds in his ribcage, quick and bright. He lets out a chuckling sigh and goes to his own room. The motions of changing to pajamas, brushing his teeth, and cleaning his face is a soft blur. When he’s finally lying in bed, a hoarse giggle escapes, hands fisting the blankets and turning his head into the pillow to hide his smile from the moonlight.

The third time is a damn shame.

You’re nestled in the crook of his arm, both of your legs hanging off a ledge as you sit on the side of a porched building. Your stomachs are full for once, merriment of your hosts tucked away in their house as you take a moment to yourselves. Another damsel in distress saved. Another day lived.

A content sigh slides out of you, and you rest further on his shoulder. You’ve borrowed a blanket from the lady of the house, wrapped around your shoulders to fight off the chill of night. The last of the suns sets. Everything is blue and quiet.

“You getting cold?” He murmurs, wrapping you closer to his side, opening his coat wider to allow you in.

You smile at his voice. “Nah, you’re a furnace. I dunno how you stand the heat.”

You’re close again. Too close. Always too close, Vash thinks, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. It brings your eyes to his, and there’s a sudden something between you.

He can’t ignore the look in your eyes. The love there. But he buries his own echo of it deep and wonders, why me? Why would you pick me?

Still, he leans forward.

Still, you do the same.

And just as your lips brush, just as he feels the warmth of your breath fan over him –

– someone opens the door of the house and calls out, “Vash, ______, get back in here before the little worms getcha!”

You two spring apart like you’re both on fire. Maybe you are. An “Oh!” falls from your host’s lips, and she hides inside in embarrassment.

A coiling, sinking feeling rests in Vash’s chest. He isn’t sure what to call it. It feels close to regret, maybe indignation? Embarrassment? It’s hard to look at you. His ears are burning. When he finally peaks over, he sees you do the same. You both look away quickly. “Uh, uhm,” he says, then clears his throat, “they’re probably starting the games. We should – “

“ – yeah, we should.” You nod, standing and twirling around to retreat. But, you stop, seeming to catch your cowardice and glance at him. Hesitantly, you offer your hand out.

Vash looks at your hand. How many times have you offered it to him now? Too many, he thinks. But you always do so willingly. He takes your hand and stands, following you back into the house, the feeling of your breath entwining with his still on his mind.

Damn shame indeed.

/~*~\

Nose (107. Sigh)

In the dim morning light, you feel his nose brush yours.

His nose is straight, somehow, despite all the times it’s been broken. You feel his enviously long lashes brush your cheeks. You try to keep still.

“Morning,” Vash whispers, and kisses your eyelids.

You still don’t move, feigning sleep.

“I know you’re awake,” he says, and his lashes flutter on your own now. “You’ve stopped snoring.”

“I don’t snore,” you say, groggy, and smile when he lets out a laugh.

You hum, scrunching your body up into a ball and burrowing closer to him. He lets you – he always lets you – and his hands run up and down your back, along your sides, under your thighs. The careful caresses of a sleepy lover.

The suns rise once more, blinking into existence one at a time. The motel’s dusty windows let in a fraction of their light, old and cracked. You reach out and trace his chest with calloused fingertips. Your eyes slowly close.

Times like this are rare. A comfy mattress to sleep on, a safe room to be in (with locks that actually work), and nothing but each other to keep company. It’s perfect. Delicate.

“Hey,” he says, leaning his head down and nudging his nose with yours. “I had a dream. We had this big farmhouse with lots of land, and you had your own library in it, and I was an actual Plant engineer, but just for the city near us.”

“Oh yeah?” You yawn, shaking your head to clear it of fuzz. “No more travelling for you?”

“Guess not.” He continues rubbing your back, eyes never leaving you. “I think my mind made up that all the Plants were doing well enough to not need me as much. We even had two dogs and a cat.”

Your lips quirk up. “Can’t have a farmhouse without those.” You yawn again into his chest.

He hums. “Nope. It was a big house. I got lost in it a few times, but then the kids helped me find my way out – “

“The kids?”

He sputters to a stop, and you’re suddenly much more awake, looking up at him through lashes. His eyes rove yours, wondering if he should keep going. “The kids,” he says quietly, “yeah. I…think there were three.”

Your lips thin for a moment, teeth worrying your bottom lip. “Whose…I mean were they…?”

“Ours?” His voice is just as quiet. His hand takes yours from his chest, holding it over his heart, and says, “Yeah, they were.” He licks his lips and a blush rises to his cheeks. “Two of them had your eyes.”

The information settles on you like a warm blanket, and you give him a sleepy smile. “That’s too bad. I’d prefer they have yours.”

He stares at you a moment. Then, Vash lets out a sigh of relief and pulls you closer. Kissing your temple, he says, “Nah, they need your pretty eyes.”

You’ll agree to disagree.

[scalingsvt8thusiast]

Skin-deep Chapter 2

summary: The one where you fall for Seungcheol amongst all the protests and insecurities. The one where you don't know that he's fallen for you too.

a/n: I'm still reeling over the fact that people actually liked chapter 1. So originally this was supposed to be part of chapter 1, but I stupidly didn't add it in cause i was worried it would be too long. But anyway, when it's finished i will create a list so its not too confusing :D

The walk to uni wasn’t so bad. The weather was good, birds were out chirping, students chatting happily around you. You felt good after yesterday’s party. Nothing better than watching all your friends get pissed drunk while you were perfectly sober. 

You knew Mingyu wouldn’t make it to class this morning, his parents were visiting next week and he needed to make sure everything that was damaged was replaced and the things that were un-replaceable was fixed. That meant no morning coffee for you since Mingyu normally bought the two of you coffee. While in different courses, the both of you had arranged your classes so that you would have time to meet up in the morning before going into your individual classes. 

Naturally, this lead to many rumours. 

Mingyu was popular because of all his parties and money. It was no secret that Mingyu’s family owned a global hotel chain (which name rhymes with Lariott). He grew up being spoilt by his parents. Them buying him a house when he moved to uni was a good example. On a sensible 5000 square meters, they had built him an olympic sized swimming pool, the largest trampoline you had ever seen, a basketball court and a 10 bedroom mansion. The house was built by some renowned architect and was featured in architectural digest for being a masterpiece. Or that was what you heard.

It wasn’t just Mingyu who was rich, in fact his entire friend group had more money than the Kardashian’s combined. You regularly hung out with Soonyoung whose family owned some phone company in Korea which were the biggest rivals of the phone company with the fruit. Jeonghan and Joshua studied with you in the library. Jeonghan’s parents were some billionaires from Asia, you had no idea what they did, and Joshua’s parents owned some music companies in the US. Which ones? You had no clue. You, Seungkwan and Seokmin attended orchestra together, you were part of the strings section and them in the choir. Seungkwan’s father owned a few of the best law firms globally. Seokmin’s parents were in the rubber business, or something like that. 

People around campus labelled you as the charity case, the girl that Mingyu and his friends took in because they had extra money to spend. Some people called you a gold digger. Some people said you were fucking them for money. The list was endless and you were friendless. Girls didn’t  approach you because they all had the hots for Mingyu and Co. Several guys had tried to pay you to sleep with them, after declining with colourful language, you swore

Did it hurt your self-esteem? Not really, you never really cared for rumours. Sure, Mingyu paid for your coffee every morning, did you try to stop him? Yes, every morning. Does he listen? No. 

Then there was Seungcheol, his family started a tech company that had started growing meteorically when his father became the CEO. Apparently everybody in the world knew his family. He would show up at school with a different car everyday, girls would crowd around him in the hallways (which you found comical) and all the professors in the school sucked up to him thanks to his family’s generous donations. 

Seungcheol’s interest in you was a recent development, he made it his mission to flirt with you every time he was in the same vicinity as you. It was fun but you had to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t special, he treated you the same way he treated other girls.

You weren’t immune to his advances, however. When he smiled at you, you could literally feel your legs turn into jello. When he spoke to you, you felt yourself wanting to continue the conversation just to hear what he had to say with that deep voice of his. It didn’t help that you shared common interests, he was a regular sting instrument player due to his upbringing, he had a penchant for reading journal articles as well as discovering new coffee places each week. Your texting history with Seungcheol’s rivaled that of yours and Mingyu’s and you've known Mingyu since you two were in diapers. 

Everyday you felt yourself getting closer to becoming one of Seungcheol’s hair twirling, pitchy, squeaky zombies. 

When you arrived for class, you sat alone at the corner. Coffee-less. None of your friends took your course, so you spent every class alone. You had tried to make friends at first, but they all ended up asking you to introduce them to Mingyu and Co. When you rejected to help, they would just flat out stop speaking to you. After the first few “friends”, you gave up. 

The professor started droning on about paediatric respiratory conditions and all you could think about is how much you wanted this to end. Throughout the lecture you received dirty looks from some whispering girls as usual. You recognised some of them from the night before, Seungcheol’s squeaky zombies. 

When the professor finally ended his speech (essentially talking to himself the entire time), you packed your bag and bolted out of the room, not wanting to deal with any of those girls. You were surprised to see Seungcheol just by the door. He was leaning against the wall, looking as cool as the devil himself. When he spotted you, he pushed himself off the wall and approached you with a coffee cup in hand. 

“Cheol? What are you doing here?” You said to him while adjusting your laptop bag. 

“You look in need of coffee, doll,” He smiled, holding out the coffee cup. Just as you were about to reach for it, he pulled back. You furrowed your eyebrows, staring at him. 

“Let’s trade,” He said holding an empty hand out, “Your bag for coffee.”

“What?” 

“Your bag first.”

“I-what?” 

“Jesus, princess, you really need coffee,” he pulled your bag off your shoulder with his free hand and pushed the coffee cup into your open palm. You sigh, not wanting to argue with him.

“Cheol, why are you here?” You ask in between sips, allowing yourself to soak up the sweet sweet embrace of coffee. “Thank you by the way.”

“Why not?” He said as his eyes traced your lips, memorising every shape and turn. His heart fluttered from how cute you looked doing the most mundane things like coffee drinking. 

“Cheol.”

“Mingyu told me he wasn’t coming in today so he asked one of us to get you coffee, I came because I wanted to see you. Happy?” He said, looking away at the last bit. “Now come on babe, let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“Do you enjoy questioning me, sweetheart?” 

“Yes.” You smiled at him mischievously, he grinned back at you.

He slung your bag over his shoulder. As the two of you walked, you dart around to try and grab your bag back from him. Amused by your efforts, he resorted to putting an arm around your shoulder, holding your arms down as he lead you to his car. 

The car in question was a black Ferarri Daytona SP3, you only know because people had been talking about it nonstop, that and your brother was a car person. The obvious choice and most sensible option for a uni student. A Ferarri. 

Many students were surrounding the car and snapping pictures, you knew with the way you two were walking you’d probably make the headlines of many group chats along with his car. As the two of you approached, the crowd seemed to part to allow Seungcheol to reach his car. 

“Ok, but seriously where are we going,” You said, squatting down to search for the door handle. How on earth do these doors open?

“Mingyu asked us to go over for food.” Seungcheol said, he softly brush your hand away and pulled the door open for you. The door swung upwards narrowly missing your head. 

You got into the car, carefully, not wanting to scratch the car and pay your entire school fees worth of damages, and as gracefully as possible. Seungcheol smiled fondly, watching you struggle to get into a car so low, he made a mental note to drive you in a higher car next time. 

“How was the party last night?” You said once Seungcheol started driving. 

“It was great, no thanks to you.” He said. He maneuvered through the crowd of students gathered around to admire his car.

Deciding to tease him a little bit more, you raised the pitch of your voice, “But Cheollie~ you had so many girls after you last night.”

“You left me to die,” He turned to give you a pout, “I saved you earlier but you threw me to the wolves.”

Placing a hand over his chest, “You hurt me, baby,” he declared. 

You giggled, finding him cute. When Seungcheol pulled out in Mingyu’s driveway, you noticed that everybody was already there from to the variety of supercars littering the front of the house. 

“Did you end up going home with any of them?” You asked trying to ignore the pang in your heart, you were only half joking right now.

The air shifted. Seungcheol’s expression unreadable, his eyebrows furrowed. “No, why would I?”

“Oh, cause if you did, you would have’ta thank me you know, I was technically your wingwoman.” You joked. 

He sighed, turning off the engine. You turned to open the car door but he reached over and pulled you towards him. You looked at him, his fingers laced with yours. 

“Why would I want any of them when I have you?” 

You tried your best not to take that to heart.

A/N2: Again, i welcome constructive criticisms, or any questions at all, just shoot me a dm or ask or whatever :)

[stupittmoran]

Did you know that Bill Gates' primary residence in Seattle boasts 7 bedrooms, 24 bathrooms, a 60-foot pool with an underwater music system, a 2,500-square-foot gym, a 1,000-square-foot dining room, six kitchens, and a trampoline room with a 20-foot ceiling? And let's not forget the 2,100-square-foot library, a home theater that seats up to 20 guests, and a massive 300-square-foot reception hall with room for 200 guests. And there's also a spacious guesthouse, a garage that fits 23 cars, and an artificial stream stocked with fish.

Depending on the source, its value is estimated at $127 to $170 million. But wait, there's more! Gates also owns homes in Del Mar, California at sea level ($43 million), Indian Wells, California ($12.5 million), Wellington, Florida ($8.7 million), and a ranch in Wyoming ($8.9 million). A fun little tidbit about his Florida property: In 2016, he paid $13.5 million for the neighboring house. Rumor has it he's also bought four other properties on the same street, making him the sole resident of the entire block.

While Bill doesn't own a mega-yacht, he regularly charters them for his vacations. He also has a penchant for spending big on luxury cars, and let's not forget his four private jets. In interviews, he's mentioned that purchasing private jets is his "guilty pleasure."

Now, isn't it ironic that one of the main proponents of reducing our carbon footprint lives like this? With such an expansive estate and luxurious lifestyle, we can't help but wonder how much his own carbon footprint is ballooning.

If the people who are urging us to reduce our carbon footprints are living lives of excess, how can we trust their motivations and the validity of their claims about man-made climate change?

Don't be like Bill!

--Dr. Simon Goddek on Twitter

[mollymauk-teafleak]

when we begin again

I wanted to write something for my little huskerdust babies au! So here's some devastating angst!!

Huge thanks to @minky-for-short for being the first to indulge me in this madness and the general encouragement and huge thanks to @hangsters for putting up with me singing these songs on repeat whenever by brain goes into standby

Please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3!

cw trans angel dust, male presenting pregnancy

-

“You have to deal with Angel Dust.”

Husk had been hearing that a lot lately. It made him happier than he’d be willing to admit to anyone with working ears. 

Well. Anyone apart from Angel Dust himself. 

But that surly voice didn’t belong to his man, it was Vaggie who had appeared against his bar, hands braced on it and interrupting the game of poker Husk had been playing against himself. There wasn’t much to do when you were a bartender who’d promised not to drink for the next six months, two weeks and three days. But who was counting? 

Husk didn’t look up, rolling the olives he used as chips from one pile to the other, blatantly cheating and willing himself not to notice, “Let me guess, he made Charlie cry again? Or was it Nifty this time? Ah fuck, did he piss off the radio demon…”

He’d rattled them off in order of likelihood but he wouldn’t put any of them past his spider demon lately. Angel Dust had always been an acquired taste with that sugared armor he put on and the sharp tongue underneath, the teasing smirk he faced the afterlife with. Hell, it had been a while before Husk broke under his charms and that was only after seeing them for what they were, pretty decoration on someone who’d been through a lot and chosen his weapons carefully. He was an asshole, smug and bitchy and vulgar, and Husk had learned to love it.

But for someone who’d actively chased chemical imbalance for years, the guy was not handling pregnancy well.

Tired, aching and hormonal, his time lately was mostly spent sulking on the couch, scowling at anyone who came near, firing off cutting remarks that weren’t so funny without the smile and wink to go along with them. There were very few people in the hotel he hadn’t upset, hitting every square on the bingo sheet, losing his shit over the smallest thing until he deserved some kind of special prize for acidity. He’d be sorry when he calmed down, continually brought to tears by his friends’ patience with him, all of them ready to play the whole scene out the next day.

Hence why Husk was asked to deal with him as often as he was, riding on his baby daddy pass. Being the spider demon’s keeper would lose its shine eventually but it hadn’t happened yet and he didn’t see it on the horizon either. 

“Well, no more than usual but…” Vaggie continued, her palm still over his winning hand. 

Husk sighed, “Look, I know he’s a lot to deal with right now but you can’t blame the guy. He was a bitch with booze, cigarettes and drugs mixed in, now he’s had to drop all three on short notice, topped off with two spider kittens using his organs as a trampoline and turning his brain into soup.” 

“No,” Vaggie’s voice shifted from surly to irritated with an edge of worry that shattered Husk’s warm feeling and pulled his eyes off his cards, “No, it’s not like that, Husk.”

“What’s up with him?” he felt his ears pick up, like if he strained enough, he could hear Angel somewhere upstairs. 

When he’d come back from the store, laden with sweet treats that made his teeth ache just looking at them and insane combinations Angel’s cravings had been demanding lately, he’d just assumed the sofa was empty because the spider was upstairs, sleeping. But Vaggie’s expression said something different. Guilt settled over Husk like a wet blanket. Why didn’t he go and check on him…

“That’s the thing, we don’t know,” the former angel folded her arms, “He was sitting in the lounge like usual, watching TV, me and Charlie were setting up for today’s lesson and suddenly he just got up and stormed off. Slammed the door and hasn’t left since. Snaps at anyone who comes knocking to go fuck themselves.” 

Husk felt the fur across his shoulders lift. Some of that was normal. Some of that gave him the concrete feeling of knowing the next card you turned would blow your hand or knowing that fist was sailing right for your nose. 

“Um…guys?” Charlie’s voice had a tremble that made it sound ready to break, “I think I know what upset him.”

The television was blaring when they ran over to where she sat in the lounge but that had a lot to do with the voice of Katie Killjoy, curdled nastily and accompanied by a dangerous lioness smile. 

And a grainy, lopsided paparazzi shot of Angel Dust, pupils wide as silver dollars and a grin so loose it was sliding right off his face, a poisonous looking martini in one of his hands, a rolled up note in another. 

“Ah fuck…” Husk groaned softly. 

“...with the frankly staggering revelation that the bumbling efforts over at the Hazbin Hotel actually work, somewhat, Hell is left with questions. How did such embarrassing methods actually produce results? Is this the first step on the road to ascension? Is this all an elaborate hoax by the Princess of Hell in a bid to sell us on her hotel? All valid questions in the wake of this news! But we here at Vox Media Productions have another to add to the list.”

The photo of Angel Dust was blown up, becoming footage, bleeding into clips from his more violent pornos. Husk doubted he had a heart anymore but something in his chest ached at the sight of a clear downward spiral. He used to watch Angel like this and tell himself he didn’t care, that the kid was none of his concern, an afterlife imploding to the same tune he’d heard a thousand times, living and dead. 

But he was long past lying to himself. Now he had no shield against the pain of watching the man he loved drown in front of him, knowing there was a version of himself just in the wings, too damn stubborn and too damn drunk to help him. 

“The well known sinner at the center of this shocking story is no stranger to scandal, though he’s far more used to making a profit from it. Angel Dust, star of many award winning pornographic films, is the supposed father-to-be but close, personal friends of the spider himself have raised their concerns.”

Husk could feel the growl running between his teeth like an electric current. He could take a guess at just who’d fed them this story. 

“Sinners, ask yourselves, is this really the person who should be in charge of Hell’s very first children? A known drug addict who makes his living from indecency? And, according to insider reports from Porn Studios, an unreliable, temperamental, unstable individual? There have been a lot of very worrying leaks about his on set behavior and, while we were all willing to turn a blind eye before, there are now young lives at stake. Can we really allow this to continue? Vox Media certainly doesn’t think so.”

A dagger flashed out and crashed through the screen, turning the chatter and flashing images into gurgling pops of static and then silence. Vaggie wrenched her weapon free, eyes flaring enough to burn holes in the wall. 

“Someone needs to crush that fucking bug,” she spat, “Pin him to a goddamn corkboard.”

“They said it’s their top story, they must have been talking about it all day…” Charlie flickered between forms, horns phasing in and out, tears welling in her eyes, “Angel must have seen it…”

“We knew Valentino would throw a bitch fit over you keeping the kids out of his hands,” Vaggie spun the dagger between her fingers like there might still be something to throw it at, “But getting Vox to do his dirty work? Fucking coward…”

“They can’t…they can’t actually take the babies from him right? Right?” Charlie shook herself, hands twisting in her hair, “No, no, of course not. Because we’ll do something about it! I’ll…I’ll get them to interview me! We’ll run our own piece! Start our own news station?”

“I’m going to talk to him.”

Husk’s voice, oddly calm and empty of anger, brought his friends up short, stalling their fury and their panic. He wrenched his claws out of the furrows he’d dug in the back of the sofa, keeping his breathing steady and even as he took the stairs two at a time. 

The more demonic part of him wanted to howl and break things, smash glass and break his claws against the wall. The part of him that had once been an Overlord wanted to track down Valentino and tear the wings off his back, grind him into the ground until he was as small as he’d ever made Angel feel. The human part of him wanted to find the nearest bottle and drain it dry, rob himself of all feeling, blunt the edges of this pain until he didn’t have to deal with it at all. 

But Husk ignored all of them. It took a moment but he managed it eventually, shoving them into the back of his mind where they couldn’t take control of his limbs. There was only one thing that he could let matter right now. 

Angel Dust wasn’t the only one who was struggling with the change in their afterlives.

The bedroom behind the door was still his own, technically, but he hadn’t thought of it that way in a while. They hadn’t been an item long before pink started bleeding into the otherwise lifeless space, bright clothes actually making use of the wardrobe, make-up left scattered in front of the mirror, Fat Nuggets snoring on Husk’s side of the bed more often than not. Angel Dust still had his room down the hall, Husk knew he got a lot of reassurance out of having his own space (and he had a lot more shit) but his paws brought him here first. 

He knocked lightly, pressing his forehead to the door, “Angel? Baby, it’s me.”

There was a very deliberate pause where Husk knew there was a good chance he’d be told to fuck off, a static weight where lightning might strike or it might not. He held his breath, tail whipping anxiously, not praying, he wasn’t fool enough for that, but hoping pretty damn hard. 

Eventually, he heard a soft murmur, the sound of fabric moving, “M’here.”

He took that as permission to gently ease the heavy door open. Their room was dark, almost completely, apart from the sickly blue light flooding out of the phone in Angel’s hands. The spider demon was slumped on the bed, angular limbs folded in like someone had taken a rolled up newspaper to him, the only part of him that moved was the thumb scrolling endlessly through some newsfeed. Husk could hear tinny versions of Angel’s exaggerated moans and squeals from any number of pornos, interspersed with canned commentary from the 666 News broadcast. It seemed like Vox wasn’t the only Vee helping Valentino play dirty. 

Husk sighed, closing the door behind him and gently clambering onto the bed, though he gave Angel plenty of room, “Baby, maybe you should stop listening to that…”

Angel’s voice was thin and rough, like it had come through a belt sander, “He’s sending me them. Val. Making sure I don’t miss any.”

Husk swallowed back acidic anger, “Block him. You can put it down, Angel, it’s okay…” 

“Used to tell yourself that at the roulette table, huh? Just put it down?” Angel flashed him a bitter look. 

Husk couldn’t help it, he flinched. Immediately his boyfriend’s anger cracked and collapsed, horror and shame underneath. The phone slipped from his fingers, landing face down and dropping them into darkness. But the pentagram moon showed Husk more than enough, the tears bleeding down Angel’s face, his mouth twisted miserably as it swallowed him under. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Husk sighed, holding out his hands, “I know you didn’t, baby, I know. Look, can I touch you? That okay?”

Angel’s two sets of arms seemed to be in disagreement. One set trembled closer to Husk’s, the other hovered over the phone, both pulling against the other and both terrified. Husk found himself doing it again, that thing that wasn’t praying, harder than he’d done over any green-felted table. 

The stalemate finally broke and, thank fuck, Husk was the winner. Angel Dust crashed into him with more force than you’d ever think was in that skinny body, clutching him tight enough to hurt, not that Husk could find it in him to care. He felt warm tears soak the fur at the curve of his neck, welcomed them, brought his wings around to shelter the two of them, purred loud and unashamedly, rocked him the way he’d never been rocked himself but it felt right. 

“I don’t get it,” the words came waterlogged and painful, “I didn’t ask for them. I didn’t ask for these kids but I’m doing my fucking best and now I have them, all everyone wants to do is take them away from me.”

For a moment, Husk was envious of his lover, two arms didn’t feel like enough to hold him, how was he supposed to compete when the hurt was this big?

“I know,” he rubbed his cheek against Angel’s hair, forgetting to be self conscious of his feline instincts, “It ain’t fair, baby. And…and I need you to know…if it’s too much, if you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to. You have a choice.”

Angel’s breath shuddered, two hands winding from around Husk’s middle, slipping down. He couldn’t see them but he knew where they were going, his own paws met them there. Demons glancing at him in the street would have no idea- well, they would now thanks to the fucking Vees- but Husk spent a good amount of his time staring at Angel Dust. He saw the gentle slope in his stomach, he knew where to press to feel it through the oversized sweatshirt he wore. He threaded his fingers through Angel’s so the two of them cradled it together, this little impossibility, this spark that had fallen through the cracks and somehow landed here in their afterlives. 

“I wanna do it,” Angel Dust rasped, “I know it’s dumb and selfish but I can’t help it. I got ditched by my family and this…they feel like a second chance. And I know I don’t deserve it but I can’t let go.”

Husk shook his head gently, shifting so he could rest his forehead against Angel’s, “Listen to me. I don’t know why this happened, I don’t know what asshole is up there above Heaven and Hell and all this mess deciding whose a sinner and whose a saint, whose spunk gets to work and whose don’t. I don’t know why these kids are here but I know there’s only one explanation that makes sense to me.” 

Angel sniffled softly, still looking down at their joined hands, “What?”

“You,” Husk breathed, running his thumb over that little knot low inside his lover, “You’re the only person I can think of, in heaven or hell or wherever the fuck else, who’s strong enough to do this. You’ve fought harder than anyone I know to be better than you were. And you’ll keep fighting for our kids, even when assholes like that bitch Val keep throwing punches. I think they’re here because you deserve that second chance, Angel.”

His slitted eyes had adjusted to the darkness, rewarding him with the sight of a small, trembling smile on Angel’s face. 

“Well…that means you do too, right?” he whispered. 

Husk chuckled softly, “Hell, I already knew I was on the path to redemption. I got you, didn’t I? Must be halfway to a fucking saint.”

Angel’s laugh was a shaky, broken thing but it was the sweetest sound Husk had heard in a long time, a prize he could never have imagined winning. To be trusted so much by someone who, by rights, should never have trusted anyone again, he wouldn’t have traded anything for that. 

Angel reached down, fumbling around in the blankets until he found his phone. He held the power button down until the screen went fully dark then tossed it over his shoulder, letting it land in some of the clothes scattered on the floor. He seemed to breathe a little easier after, glowing at the proud grin Husk gave him. 

“I love you, baby,” the words still left him quietly, like he was still unsure saying them, they were a trick he hadn’t mastered yet and was terrified to fumble, “You know that, right?”

Angel nods, plucking those words out of the air and clutching them so tight they were tattooed on his palm, “So you keep saying, Whiskers. Though I could stand to hear it a few more times…and I love you too. A whole fucking lot…” his eyes slid over his shoulder where he’d tossed the phone and it’s poisonous chatter,  “Enough that it drowns out all that bullshit on most days.”

Husk laid a paw against his cheek, brushing away the tear tracks on his face, “And on the days it doesn't, I’m right here. And soon we’ll have two little brats running around, I hear they’re pretty loud.”

Angel let Husk tumble him gently sideways, their bodies finding a way to comfortably fit together in their nest of blankets, “Not soon enough if you ask me. I could have been just enough of a spider to lay eggs and save myself the hassle but nah, I had to go and fall in love with a mammal…”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Husk smiled crookedly, purring so Angel would feel it as he pillowed his head on his chest, “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Too fucking right you will,” Angel’s gold tooth flashed as he yawned, the sadness draining away and leaving him empty, “Over and over again, in a wide variety of different positions…”

Husk could feel Angel Dust still shaking, even after he drifted asleep. It wasn’t the end of it, he knew that the tide had just gone out. The next months weren’t going to be easy and hell only knew what would happen after that. He’d certainly had better odds in his time. 

But Husk knew one thing for certain. He was all in. 

[bittersw33t-lotus]

Bloody Hell!

Tommyinnit x Fem! reader

Cw: bloody nose, Tommy feeling immensely guilty, takes place in the “I Brought A Trampoline Park” video, mentions of reader being a female, uses of woman, jokes of physical fights (uses of woman beater as a joke)

Tommy had invited you to join him, Ranboo, Tubbo, and George to go and play at a trampoline park Tommy rented for the day. You agreed and got dressed I’m comfortable clothes before they picked you up and drove to the place.

(So sorry for disappearing for a long time guys. I just fell out but I’ll try my best to get back into posting again. I have a whole bunch of unfinished works I need to finish.)

When you all arrived you walked in and got anti-slip socks before preparing to film. After we settled we got straight to filming our antics. We bang jumping and playing doge ball, Tommy and I kept aiming for each other the most but missing most of the shots all while shit-talking to one another. The day was going good and you were having a blast when you and Tommy decided to battle each other on one of the courses. You had to balance on a beam holding soft but pretty solid foam barrels that had handles you could hold onto, you had to try your best to hit and knock your opponent off the plank all while keeping your balance to avoid falling off. Who ever fell first won, so that’s what you and Tommy decided to do to see who was the best.

The George was already filming you two as you walked towards eachother on the plank. You had a pretty good balance on the plank, Tommy seemed to be struggling a bit to which you teased him for. As Ranboo and Tubbo stood on the sides with George watching the match, they began to cheer for you chanting your name, it gave you a bit of a boost in your ego. “The game hasn’t even started and you’re already struggling? Weak.” You teased as Tommy glared at you.

“Fuck you bitch!” Tommy yells out as the charges you and swings his barrel but they were kinda heavy and Tommy isn’t very strong and fast so you blocked his hit. With your barrel still maintaining your balance and making Tommy wobble a bit. You two fought and swung the barrels the best you could. You were pretty obviously winning with how balanced you were and how much Tommy was struggling. Before you could knock him off Tommy gave one last powerful swing but swung upwards as you aimed downwards. Tommy tried to hit your chest but you ended up kneeling down a bit causing the barrel to hit you square in the face. Tommy screams as you finally knocked him off and landed in the foam pit, you fell shortly after him technically declaring you the winner. As you landed in the pit you you felt a slightly painful stinging sensation buzz in your nasal area but you tried to brush it off not thinking much of it. Ranboo, George and Tubbo were showing their dissatisfaction at the results of the battle as they sighed obnoxiously. “You were so close to winning (yn)!” Tubbo says as he flails his arms.

You get up and out of the pit as you laugh. “Well technically, Tommy fell first and I call it a foul cause he hit me in the face.” You say as you felt, what you thought was snot running down your nostril, was warm and much more liquified than normal.

As you tried sniffing it in, it was rendered useless as it dribbled down to your lips and chin before dripping on your sweater. You look down as see that it was not in fact snot, it was actually blood. “Oh shit.” You muttered in surprise. You weren’t too worried about it since you kinda half expected yourself to bleed however the others didn’t think so.

“Oh fuck, you’re bleeding!” George says aloud, as he turns to you unknowingly recording you standing there with blood leaking from your nose and dripping on your sweater. George’s words catchthe attention of the other three boys and a few employees that were near by keeping watch of you and your friends.

Tommy eyes widened as covers his mouth with his hands. “Oh, bloody hell!” Tommy exclaims dramatically as he walks up to you. You take your sleeve and quickly cover your nose as you wave your hand.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t even hurt.” You try and brush them off but it doesn’t do much to calm Tommy. Tubbo and another employee go to the bathroom to fetch you some paper towels as Tommy just stands beside you freaking out and muttering apologies over and over again. George and Ranboo just stand there and talk about your bloody nose for a comedic bit for the video making fun of how much Tommy’s freaking out while you’re just they’re acting like nothing.

Eventually you get some paper towels and you head off to the bathroom to clean yourself up and get the bleeding under control. While the other wait for you they sit in the lounge area.

George shoves the camera in Tommy’s face and decides to make a good bit out of it. “How does it feel to know you just hit a woman and made her bleed.” George teases. Tommy looks at him with a blank stare before his face contorts to a ‘are you fucking for real?!’ Face.

“It was a fucking battle we were suppose to hit each other!” Tommy shouts as George, Tubbo and Ranboo laugh.

“Yeah but you won’t supposed to hit her in the face.” Ranboo says as Tommy groans and covers his face.

“I wasn’t trying to hit her face but she leaned down as I swung. I swear it was an accident!” Tommy cries out and he pretends to sob. “Genuinely tho I feel bad, I didn’t know she would lean down-” Tommy rambles as you come out of the bathroom with your sweater in hand now just sporting you t-shirt and a piece of tissue plugged up in your nostril.

“I got the bleeding under control finally but my sweater is covered in blood, looks like I murdered someone.” You joke as you approach the group. Tommy gets up rushes you like a mad man before engulfing you in a hug.

“I’m so so fucking sorry I swear I didn’t mean to hit you! It was an accident I swear.” He say but you quickly shut him up as you grasp his shoulder.

“Tommy chill out man, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to and besides I’m not mad about it, it’s just a bloody nose.” You say as shrug your shoulders. “However, if you broke my nose. It’d be a different story.” You joke but Tommy didn’t seem to think you were as he’s eyes widened a bit in shock and fear. You laugh and gently nudge his side. “I’m kidding Tom, I could never be angry with you.”

Tommy laughs in relief but also with a mix of nervous laughter not knowing if you really could be mad or not if that were to happen. After that the rest of the day filming and jumping around was fun. After it was over, you and Tommy drove back to his place after picking up some food and snacks to eat while you watch a movie and edit the video. After a couple hours of editing the video (ik Tommy has his own editor but just bear with it for the story) he finally decided to wrap it up and finish the rest of it tomorrow. You both sat down on the couch and watched movies you both wanted to watch.

A few days after the video finally came out. Everyone made an inside joke with the nose bleeding incident and titled Tommy to be a woman beater which was of course used lightly not really taken to heart. You laugh about it too and occasionally joke about it joking that Tommy beat the hell out of you.

———

“You guy remember when Tommy punched me and made me bleed from my nose-“

“Oh my god! I did not, it was a fucking accident and it was with a foam pillar!”

[2022dirt]

The dew forming on this trampoline is squared out by the fabric.

[themsthenow]

DUDE DUDE DUDE I AM OBSESSED WITH THE STUFF YOU MADE OMFG. the wings and the claws im!!!! im feral rn. holy shit

do you have any advice on where to get started if someone were wanting to make something like that of their own? or just generally propmaking for cosplay stuff, god knows i need to find a way to make wings of Some Form to appease the hyperfixation lol

love this stuff it's so cool holy hell

Wow, hey thank you for the nice words :).

In terms of advice, I'd say just be prepared for random stuff to go wrong.

DOWN SCALE.

Unless you have the wide open space required to house an extra entity, I'd say down scale it and make the wing span smaller, because I literally cannot put these anywhere lol. Me and my friends were measuring them by an estimated version of Tessa's height, assuming she was an adult Australian (160cm) and not a dead child wearing robot. The original wing span ended up being almost three and a half Tessas. Down scaling is definitely recommended.

Then going on to material, I'm going to be honest, I don't really know what any good substitutes for what I've been using. The best thing I can think of would be like cutting up one of those big umbrellas you see in like outdoor seating areas because they are built to be sturdy and light enough to to transport places. The blade part of the wings were made out of cheapo yoga mats, they are not Eva foam(idk if Eva foam is more expensive, but cheapo worked for me), they are some kind of material similar to insulation sheets just slightly thicker, I have the cutting patterns on the blog (the mats are 140x50x1cm) . Springs are something similar to "helical extension springs"(they pull things together, like trampoline springs) the strength of these will vary depending on how and if you downscale the over all project.

The general wing mechanism had to be redone a little bit but the new design is just based off an umbrella. It's good to use when you fold it in that the sections form a square in between the joints as a reference because it makes it easier to translate to the wings when drilling holes. The grey moving bar is on the outside now👇

I'll be reall, this part👆 needs a bit of precision. The two holes at the bottom have to be the exact same distance and stuff as each other so the mechanism works. You could probably find a way to optimise the mechanism but I did not (this was just easier for me at least)

The way all the blade parts go up is kinda cheesing it if you want all individual parts to work perfectly without extra materials. I was tying a string together on the bars and it worked to space the wings as I wanted to.

All in all, I'm going to be making a big ol summary post detailing all the stuff whenever I'm done fully.

Until then, I hope this helps, good luck to you and don't be afraid to make mistakes :).

(it's only a mistake if you give up)

Prop making and cosplay in general are things I probably can't comment on because I have never done cosplay and most of the prop things, I make are made out of random trash I can find that would cost dumb money if you went out to buy it new.

These for example are gutter or house liner plastic that was left over from a building site (gloves were uber cheap) and they were tedious and smelly to cut out and melt over an open flame, but if you want to do this too wear a mask for saftey unless you don't care about your lungs (which you should)

The claws were a lot easier to make. Easy enough that I made two sets (I think I went through the process of making these already)

[aclowntiny]

Unstoppable Forces and Immovable Objects- Mingi x Female!Reader

Song Mingi is an incredibly special man & I hope he never forgets it 😤 I love he immensely. Pink Mingi is, frankly, a cornerstone of this year. An icon. A legend. The moment. Also shhhh I took some dorm layout liberties for this 🤫😂

Word Count: 2620 | Idiots to Lovers, Humor | Warnings: only if you're bothered by smooch talk hehe, but one note: 노래방 = noraebang aka what most of us English speakers think of as karaoke 😄

"(y/n)! (y/n)! Watch this!"

"What now?"

Completely ignoring Yeosang's interjection, Mingi continued to call for you, grin of whimsy widening when you made your way over as if he wasn't sure he'd actually see you.

Which he totally would, always, because you had the biggest, fattest crush on him, heart leaping up and hitting a big carnival bell every time Mingi sought your attention. He was the biggest ray of sunshine smiling through just about any cloud in your life.

Shuffling past Hongjoong and Seonghwa's conversation at the sidelines, you made your way back to the bouncy center of the trampoline park you'd gone with the boys to. There stood Mingi with a hand raised, waving as he bounced ever-so-slightly on his heels, the dark netting rippling beneath him.

"Let's see," you tell him with a smile, heart fluttering at his waves and jumps.

"Ok! Get ready!" Steadying himself, Mingi hunkered a bit from his upright stance, run-jumping across three squares of trampoline, hurtling himself up into the air on the fourth toward the giant obstacle pad set a little bit left of center. He did not clear it, sailing right into the side of the firm structure with a small oof.

Smacking his forehead, Yeosang took a few steps away. Yunho joined you in running toward the tall man and his unfortunate collision, asking his friend if he was ok. It looked like he almost nodded, but you met his eyes as he ended up shaking it no instead. Your eyes widened. Had it started hurting?

"Where does it hurt? Do you think you bruised something?"

"Just his ego," Yeosang muttered.

You, of course, did not want to make Mingi feel any worse, choosing not to respond to that. "Do you need help up?"

Mingi nodded, eyes still looking into yours as he held out his hand to you. Face warming, you grabbed it, unable to suppress a smile even as you pulled the big man to his feet again.

"That was really cool, though," you told him, just to see the smile return to his face, "you went really far. I bet the others couldn't get that far."

"No, they couldn't, could they?" Contagious joy indeed came back to Mingi's face. "I'm going to jump so high I finally hit the punching bag they hung! Watch me, (y/n)!"

"I will," you giggle, stepping back and bouncing in place as he goes long for a running start.

~

(POV: Mingi)

"This has to stop before you break anything. Don't you think there's any other way?" Yeosang cajoled, sitting down next to Mingi and handing him a freshly chilled water bottle.

Mingi, for his part, took some of the cool condensation on his hand, running it through his short pink hair to combat the sweat of exertion before frowning in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"These insane attempts to get (y/n)'s attention!"

"Insane attempts?"

"Last week, Mingi, you borrowed my skateboard and proceeded to skin your arm when you fell off the grind rail. You have never skateboarded in your life."

"I wanted her to think I'm cool," the pink-haired man responded with a pout, "she's so beautiful and awesome."

"And notice," Yeosang commented, shaking his head as black hair fell all over, "she has never fallen off a skateboard."

"Well, what do you think I should do?"

"Um, maybe consider confessing to her? Seeing if she likes you too?"

"No way! What if she doesn't even want to be friends anymore?"

"Well, I suppose that's a risk we all take," Yeosang responded, tone softening, "but if you're respectful about it, I'm sure you won't lose her completely."

"That's the last thing I want," Mingi said intensely.

"Yes, of course not, so why don't you just-"

Right then, you happened to saunter by, crossing the sidelines near the center to head to the foam pit, glancing over at the two of them with a faint smile. A gorgeous one. Mingi smiled back, tossing the water bottle his hyung gave him immediately aside and walking after you.

"Hey, (y/n), let's jump in at the same time and see who can climb back out faster!"

That's what you guys did, Mingi diving in facing the side so he could watch with a twinkle in his eye the way you flipped in. Amazing. He managed to get his footing on the way out, scrambling up not too clumsily for once, but when he turned around he saw your hands clutching at the side, floundering a bit.

His heart thudded. "Hey, you helped me earlier. Do you need me to return the favor?"

"Yes, please," you replied with a nod, loosening half your grip to take Mingi's proffered hand.

He yanked you free of the cubic foam menaces in no time, and soon you were standing right in front of him. "Guess you win," you remarked with an amused smirk.

"Yeah, I guess so, but your jump was way cooler."

"I can show you how to do it if you want, but only on one condition."

"What's that, (y/n)?"

"You keep helping me out when I get stuck."

"Of course."

~

(POV: You)

Jump time over, you made your way across the arena to the exit, taking the long way as you, San, and Jongho sprung across every single central trampoline. Giggling, you landed, shuffling over to the locker where the park had you lock up your shoes. When you got there, Yeosang had lowered himself onto the bench by your locker, so you dropped down next to him to lace yourself back up. Out of the peripheries of your vision, you saw him fixing you with a look.

"Really?"

You blinked. "What?"

"Fake falling into the foam pit?" He asked in response, one eyebrow raising.

"You mean the dive?" Pulling your right foot into your shoe, you fixed the dark-haired singer with a look of your own, this one conveying a lack of understanding.

Or so you thought. "No, I mean the way you obviously didn't even try to get out and the little drama performance as you feebly grabbed the sides."

"Hey, I'm not feeble!"

"No, you're just into Mingi, aren't you?"

"Because I had him help me out? In case you haven't noticed, he's pretty tall and strong, and he's so nice I really didn't think he would mind if I-"

"Yeah, you hear yourself, don't you?"

Busted. "Ok, please don't say anything, I mean there's no way he likes me back and I don't want to make things weird, so it's just something I get to live with as you guys' friend."

Yeosang just chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, man."

"What?"

"Nothing," he grabbed his bag, "just...look, I know Mingi very well, and let me just tell you he'd rather get hit by a bus than make the first move. If you're into him, the best thing you could do is tell him. Very, very directly."

Your mouth fell open. "What? Confess?" Heat bloomed across your face. "It's ok, I don't need to hear him reject me, I know we're just friends, it just...he's just...he's just so..." You trail off with a sigh.

Yeosang just elbows you, rolling his eyes lightly. "Handsome? Dreamy?"

"Shut up," you shoot back in a drawn-out giggle as you make your way to the rest of the group at the lobby, where you surreptitiously popped open the doors on one of the little ice cream coolers, sliding a bar out and taking it up to the desk to purchase. Giving people food, after all, was a flirtation method in your mind. Like hey, hello, please like me, I can feed you. You weren't sure if it worked on Mingi or not, but hey, worth a shot.

You strolled up to him, pulling the strawberry cream bar out from behind your back. "Look what I got you! It matches your hair!"

With that big, bright smile you loved, Mingi pulled an ice cream bar out from behind his back, too. "I got you an ice cream!" He exclaimed, though he trailed off as he glanced at his offering. "Though this one doesn't match your hair."

A smack sound at your back had Mingi starting and you turning around, only to see Yeosang with his face in his hand.

~

(POV: Yeosang)

"This is stupid."

"Oh, you think?" Yeosang, frankly, was over the moon to have someone who sympathized with him, that person being his longtime friend Wooyoung.

Wooyoung who stood at Yeosang's side taking in the very same scene that laid out before them: you and Mingi had jointly chosen a very particular 노래방 song, your favorite romantic movie duet to be exact. You two were gripping your microphones like lifelines, both absolutely belting the song at each other for the bit, key and perfect notes be darned. Your eyes never left each other's except to dart ever-so-slightly down every now and again as you grinningly deafened everyone else, whose rolling eyes you were blind to thanks to that focus on each other. Mingi let his jacket slide down his shoulders as he dropped down to really yell a note, revealing the tank top he was wearing underneath, and boy did your eye contact falter then.

"Uh, yeah," Wooyoung's eyes slid upward so hard they practically disappeared under their lids as he crossed his arms, "My God, I feel like a third wheel. Are they-"

"Deeply convinced they have torturous one-sided crushes? Yes, they are," Yeosang replied, mirroring his friend's posture.

The sputtering that followed was very satisfying to what little bit of Yeosang's sanity remained. "Wh- What? How? Can they not see themselves doing..." Wooyoung extended a black-sleeved arm, palm flat out and pointing incriminatingly at you two, who were now giggling over some dumb mic twirling contest. "That?"

"That's what friends do," Yeosang asked facetiously, falling back against the red plush bench the inactive singers sat on, "right?"

"I mean," Wooyoung commented, hands wringing, "I'd do that with you, but just with a drinking song or something, sheesh."

"And even then I'd contemplate slapping you."

"That's why I love you." Wooyoung slid a little closer to his friend with a teasing grin. "See? That's so easy, why don't Mingi and (y/n) do that?"

"Good luck, they're like an unstoppable force and an immovable object." Yeosang quickly motioned to the duo with a sweep of his open hand, directing Wooyoung's eyes off him and back to the antics, which this time consisted of Mingi trying to coolly toss his microphone and catch it, totally missing and sending it flying to the floor, making the two of you laugh.

"Is that why Mingi was practicing juggling in the dorms?"

"He what?"

"Yeah, one of Seonghwa's legos got knocked over...not a pretty afternoon."

Yeosang ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Yeah, we'd practically need to trick them into getting together to stop the carnage."

Suddenly he felt a slap to his shoulder. Starting, he swiveled his head from the Mingi-(y/n) train wreck to meet the devilish eyes of one Jung "Schemes" Wooyoung.

"Well, I think that can be arranged." Leaning in, he whispered a plan to Yeosang, who nodded and shook his hand in agreement. "Alright then! Celebratory song?"

"Sure, why not?" Yeosang replied, rising from the couch and coaxing the thrice-tossed microphones from (y/n) and Mingi. "Anything to stop the showtunes."

"Hey," you pouted, "that's a classic, you know!"

"Yeah!"

"Mingi, my friend, you've never even seen that movie," Wooyoung chuckled, wrapping an arm around his friend, who flushed.

"I can appreciate lyricism, you know."

~

(POV: You)

Yeosang was not letting you breathe. Ever since you admitted to liking his friend back in the trampoline park, he wouldn't stop wiggling his eyebrows at you after you brushed hands with Mingi, elbowing you and making jokes in the kitchen, and now just straight-up playing devil-on-your-shoulder telling you you needed to practice confessing.

"No, I don't," you griped back, "I've already ruined my life enough by even falling for a friend in the first place, I don't need to creep him out, too."

"Sheesh, what do you think you're going to say, that you've got names for all three of your kids or what?"

"Well for starters, how does Song Minseo sound to you?"

Yeosang looked like he was going to puke. "Oh, God."

"That was a joke!" You waved your hands back and forth wildly as if very inexperienced-ly directing a plan landing. "I was kidding!"

"You came up with that way too fast," he said, shaking his head, "but, see, it's hard to get the white picket fence if you never share how you see him, right?"

You crossed your arms. "I guess."

"You had no problem telling me how tall and strong and nice he was," Yeosang pointed out, leading you further down the dorm hall and shooting a brief look into Wooyoung's room before stopping you in his, "just say all that to him instead of me."

Your hands shot up to cover your reddening face. "That would be so embarrassing."

"I mean, he probably already knows he's tall, strong, and nice, so you should be pretty safe with that one."

"I'm not just going to say that, that's, like, basic stuff! I'd tell him how happy he makes me just by being happy himself, how he's pretty much a ray of pure sunshine and I love the way he calls my name and I can't imagine being half as comfortable with anyone else as I am with him. He has eyes, he can tell he's hot or whatever."

Yeosang got an absolutely catlike smile on his face. "And who are we talking about again?"

Glaring daggers into those pleased-looking eyes, you bit out "Mingi, you idiot! You were the one who made me admit I liked him in the first place, what do you mean who?"

Before your long-haired friend could answer, his silence starkened a not-so-subtle "Really?" from outside the door, through which Wooyoung and Mingi suddenly came barreling, the latter practically shoving the former aside to get next to you. Your eyes widened, heartbeat speeding up multiple times its normal pace.

"Yes!" Those dang sparkly eyes you wanted to stare into forever. That deep voice. Excitement in that deep voice. Mingi's gaze traveling all around your face as he reached clumsily for one of your hands, the other pumping like he'd just won a football game. "Yes!"

You couldn't take it; flushing and grinning a winning expression of your own, you felt your heart burst and soar as you stepped forward, carnival bell ringing over and over again. It rang so loud, in fact, it practically possessed you, Mingi's victorious shouts and even the way he started bouncing started to drain away in the swell of your heart, your eyes and brain only seeing him. More specifically... without a single forethought, as you did most things when you were around Mingi, your hands reached out to grab his collar, yanking him forward until he crashed into your lips, responding as soon as physically possible. Arms sliding around his neck, you picked up the pace, feeling Mingi smile and totally coming undone, knees almost buckling until you felt a hand steady you around your waist. When you pulled away, Mingi tightened his grip, keeping you in place as your foreheads connected, both of you giggling like schoolkids who got caught passing notes as you began whispering all the once-secret feelings you shared for each other.

"Hm, this might get annoying, too," Yeosang commented.

"Yeah, totally," Wooyoung agreed, leaning against the doorframe he'd just been pushed against, "but at least they'll break less stuff now."

[suzy-queued]

DVD Commentary: These Foolish Games

@stocious asked if I could share behind-the-scenes commentary from These Foolish Games. @shamelessdvdcommentary

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc) I wrote it from March through November of 2022. It's a 15-chapter fic, 96,884 words.

What was the initial inspiration for your story? I love the "Shop around the Corner" scenario where people fall in love via text but hate each other in person. I've only seen versions of that trope where the love portion happens via letters but they remain enemies in real life. I wanted to see what would happen if they were chasing each other in a huge love square. Picture me giggling and saying, "All we want out of Gallavich stories is to see them fall in love over and over again. What if every major character in this story is either Ian or Mickey in alternate forms?!"

What was your favorite scene to write? Hands down, it was chapter 4, when they watched the training video. This Mickey is based on a friend I had in high school named Jason. He and I had health class together, and we'd chat and joke around during class. But two strange things happened: (1) when we were OUT of class, he wouldn't even make eye contact with me. It was like I didn't exist. (2) when we watched videos IN class and the lights would go down, it was like we were dating. He'd hold my hand and lock our feet together and trace shapes on each other's arms. I never knew anyone who could Jekyll and Hyde so quickly between three different dynamics. Were we friends, strangers, or crushes? That history with him churns in my brain, and I wanted to capture how that felt in this story.

How did you come up with the title? I took the title from Jewel's song.

Other working titles included: This Bitter Chase Addicted to that Rush Shock + Awe Rules of Engagement Cock it and Pull it Locked and Loaded Brace for Impact A Shot in the Dark Caught in the Crossfire Come Out and Play Mark and Misfire

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice? That every chapter (except one) had a two-word title. I like coming up with chapter titles, and I thought that was fun.

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this? I painted myself into a corner with the criminal aspect. My notes said something like, "Hector is doing something related to theft in the facility. This theft leads to unsafe circumstances. These unsafe circumstances are serious enough for his franchise to be threatened." I know nothing about trampoline engineering. I know very little about underground markets and precious metals. You don't hear a lot of media coverage of trampoline parks as mob fronts. I visited soooo many sketchy websites and researched what could possibly net Hector a decent enough chunk of change. I read documents about safety liability and franchise law. The takeaway is, anything can be solved with the right amount of research.

You know what was really fun to research? Videos of people doing wall runs.

Did the storyline change in any way as you wrote the story? I started with a more dramatic rivalry between the laser tag staff and the bounce center. It was a blood feud, and if you crossed those lines, you'd be dead. It was a life-threatening and tense dynamic, which we as the readers would see as parody but the characters would take 100% seriously. Total noir, Quentin Tarantino vibes. The more I wrote, I couldn't sustain that intensity with a straight face.

Jett was originally "Finn," but I didn't want "NotFinn" to have the same initials as "Noel Fisher." Chara was originally "Samantha."

If you are writing a particular trope or genre, was it your first time writing this? I never put so much texting into a story! Whew! It was cool to figure out how to do AO3 skins for this story. I set it up so that Ian's texts were always orange and Mickey's texts were always blue. That was done with a skin, so I didn't have to code it fresh for every chapter.

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterization, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc) I'm most proud of keeping the identities straight. It was … a lot. With all the Shakespearean name swapping, the reader could still follow who was who (I hope).

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share - e.g. what’s going on in a characters head in a certain scene or how you came to write a certain line? I can share a little about the process of keeping a long story straight. I made a dossier of all the characters, locations, and scenes as I was going. That way, I could glance at the notes instead of having to re-read entire chapters to find details.

As with all my stories, I hand-wrote this one. I filled three notebooks.

Are there any ‘easter eggs’ in your story - e.g. references to other stories you’ve written, a trope you often use etc? One trope is that I create art for each chapter. I also like to create logos for each story I make. Here is the full TigerZone logo:

I also create Spotify playlists for all my stories. Here is the one for These Foolish Games.

If you’ve chosen your most popular story, are you surprised by the popularity? This is my most commented-on and kudoed fic, which makes me so happy. I think it's well-deserved.

Were you nervous or excited to post this story? Yes. The nerves never go away, no matter how much you've written.

Anything else you’d like the readers to know about the story? Here are a few images that show the inspiration as well as what was happening in my life as I wrote it.

Our family (pre-covid) enjoyed laser tagging and trampolining.

We had a tornado and major power outage in 2022, which didn't stop me from writing. We took a trip to Chicago, and I was poking my head into every laser tag arena we saw.

That summer, as I was writing, Noel was in Brooklyn filming The Calling. I also went to Brooklyn, a few weeks later.

After the story was complete, my husband gifted me a printed copy. 😭❤️

This is open to all writers! Pick your favorite story you’ve written or your most popular or the one you think deserves some more love! Or ask your followers to suggest their favorite fic of yours!

Thank you for the ask! This is so much fun. I can't believe how many wonderful friends I made from this fic.

[psychics4unet]

Cloud Divination: Mystical Meanings Behind These 100 Cloud Shapes! ☁️✨

Ever wondered what those cool cloud shapes could be revealing about your own future in a psychic reading? Here are 100 different cloud formations and their hidden messages!

Read the full tutorial here: https://psychics4u.net/cloud-divination/

(It also called Nepholomancy and Aeromancy).

Heart ❤️: Love and emotional connection.

Cross ✝️: Spiritual guidance or a significant life choice.

Circle 🔵: Completion, wholeness, or unity.

Triangle 🔺: Change or transformation.

Square ⬛: Stability and security.

Star ⭐: Inspiration and guidance.

Arrow ➡️: Direction and progress.

Wave 🌊: Change and movement.

Spiral 🌀: Growth and personal development.

Butterfly 🦋: Transformation and beauty.

Dragon 🐉: Power and strength.

Anchor ⚓: Stability and grounding.

Tree 🌳: Growth and connection to nature.

Sun ☀️: Joy and positivity.

Moon 🌕: Intuition and reflection.

Lightning Bolt ⚡: Sudden change or insight.

Bird 🕊️: Freedom and perspective.

Fish 🐟: Abundance and emotional depth.

Flower 🌸: New beginnings and beauty.

Key 🗝️: Solutions and unlocking potential.

Castle 🏰: Security and aspirations.

Ship 🚢: Journey and adventure.

Crown 👑: Achievement and leadership.

Crescent Moon 🌙: New beginnings and potential.

Sword ⚔️: Conflict and resolution.

Shield 🛡️: Protection and defense.

Chalice 🍷: Emotional fulfillment and nourishment.

Door 🚪: Opportunities and new experiences.

Pathway 🛤️: Life journey and decisions.

Mountain 🏔️: Challenges and accomplishments.

Wave 🌊: Emotional highs and lows.

Lock 🔒: Secrets or obstacles.

Map 🗺️: Guidance and direction.

Eye 👁️: Awareness and perception.

Ladder 🪜: Progress and advancement.

Hourglass ⏳: Time and patience.

Wings 🕊️: Freedom and transcendence.

Tornado 🌪️: Disruption and change.

Raindrop 💧: Emotional release or cleansing.

Vase 🏺: Creativity and receptivity.

Moon Crescent 🌙: Foresight and change.

Sunburst 🌟: New energy and enthusiasm.

Helmet ⛑️: Protection and readiness.

Ring 💍: Unity and commitment.

Bell 🔔: Alertness and awakening.

Rainbow 🌈: Hope and promise.

Starfish ⭐️: Healing and regeneration.

Leaf 🍃: Renewal and growth.

Pyramid 🔺: Strength and stability.

Hammer 🔨: Building and creating.

Cloudburst 🌧️: Emotional release or a sudden insight.

Bridge 🌉: Connection and transition.

Diamond 💎: Clarity and strength.

Feather 🪶: Lightness and spiritual connection.

Waves 🌊: Emotional cycles and flow.

Horizon 🌅: New opportunities and perspectives.

Footprint 👣: Personal journey and progress.

Puzzle Piece 🧩: Solutions and completeness.

Silhouette 🕵️: Hidden aspects or potential.

Jigsaw 🧩: Complexity and problem-solving.

Rocket 🚀: Ambition and exploration.

Candle 🕯️: Illumination and hope.

Jewel 💍: Value and uniqueness.

Puzzle Piece 🧩: Finding missing elements in life.

Zodiac Signs ♈️♉️♊️: Astrological influences and guidance.

Paw Print 🐾: Companionship and loyalty.

Guitar 🎸: Creativity and expression.

Yin-Yang ☯️: Balance and harmony.

Magnifying Glass 🔍: Focus and clarity.

Compass 🧭: Direction and guidance.

Iceberg 🧊: Hidden aspects or challenges.

Giraffe 🦒: Perspective and vision.

Moon Phases 🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘: Cycles and transitions.

Scales ⚖️: Balance and fairness.

Telescope 🔭: Exploration and foresight.

Sunglasses 🕶️: Perception and clarity.

Infinity Symbol ∞: Endless possibilities and continuity.

Anchor ⚓: Security and grounding.

Caterpillar 🐛: Transformation and growth.

Mosaic 🧩: Diversity and complexity.

Trampoline 🏆: Ups and downs or bouncing back.

Archway 🌉: Transition and passage.

Windmill 🌬️: Energy and movement.

Maze 🧩: Challenges and problem-solving.

Train 🚂: Progress and movement.

Dove 🕊️: Peace and harmony.

Trophy 🏆: Achievement and recognition.

Scissors ✂️: Cutting ties or new beginnings.

Books 📚: Knowledge and learning.

Helix 🧬: Evolution and development.

Grapes 🍇: Abundance and prosperity.

Canoe 🛶: Journey and self-discovery.

Zeppelin 🛩️: High aspirations and visionary goals.

Chimney 🏠: Release and cleansing.

Footprints 👣: Guidance and direction.

Mirrors 🪞: Reflection and self-awareness.

Lantern 🏮: Guidance and illumination.

Dreamcatcher 🪶: Protection and dreams.

Hourglass ⏳: Patience and time management.

Wind 🌬️: Change and movement.

[meadowziplines]

i want to hear about the wingfic and olympics au!!

the wingfic is not progressing very much but i'm slowly chipping away at it. it's still a lot of loosely connected bits. sort of like dream's joints.

By the time he is twenty-four, he exists in shades of black, white, and red. He stares down at his hands, striping white and red against the cold; he stares at the flush on his cheeks, which burns down his arms, against his starkly pale skin, against his black hair and black shirt and coat. He is always cold. He is always burning. They are rarely mutually exclusive. And it is normal, if he tells himself it enough. Everyone experiences this.   And he learns to hide his wings. 

Olympics AU is a Pile of Angst so far. so, fun fact, Baby Meadow (pre-teen) did trampoline and tumbling until their gym closed and won ninth at regionals and went to Nationals. Dream being good on trampoline and awful on the floor is basically me channeling my hatred of the Floor Routine. (Which for trampoline and tumbling is hysterical, instead of the big square you just run down a rectangle doing things).

tl;dr Dream is an Olympic silver medalist on trampoline, and he and Hob didn't part horribly just kinda drifted apart as Dream's parents and coaches got more and more pressurey. And then Burgess fucks everything up and pushes him too hard, and there's a ... type of accident you can have on the trampoline, where you hit outside the box, and get jettisoned off it. Well. Dream is exhausted and traumatized and hits wrong and is hurt badly enough that he'll never jump competitively again. Burgess dies of a coronary yelling at him to get up. It's a whole thing. He basically runs off to try and live in isolation until Hob and friends show up.

Dream was atrocious at 'proper' gymnastics. As a child, skinny and prone to falling, flexible joints that no one seemed to notice anything amiss with, he'd been packed off to gymnastics classes.  Somehow they thought blindfolding him on the floor exercises would help. Falling on his face did not, as it turns out, improve matters.  The trampoline, though… The trampoline.  Once he was in the air, his body turned like magic. The ground hurt. Being in the air was everything. 

[mattapparentlystumbltourneys]

Giraffe Girumble - Round 3A

Propaganda below (May contain spoilers!)

Kaku propaganda:

He's a black ops government assassin who can transform into a giraffe or a human-giraffe hybrid that is really angular for some reason. He fights using two swords and wind blades shot from his feet, but giraffes have four feet, so he can shoot wind blades from all four limbs. He can also become a cube. And suck in his neck to fire his head forward like a cannon, his nose like a square-shaped cannonball. Or suck in his neck to make his legs longer, like a pasta machine.

A professional assassin and government agent, ate the fruit that gave him the ability to turn into a giraffe. Due to Kaku's personal anatomical peculiarity, he turns into a square giraffe (technically, a parallelepiped) a good swordsman who quickly learned to use the giraffe form for his fighting style. However, because he only became a giraffe a few hours ago, he is still not very good at it, which makes him miss funny. in his next appearance, he is a complete professional at transformations. AND AFTER HIS TEAM LOST TO THE MAIN CHARACTER'S TEAM, HE AND HIS PARTNERS WORKED AT A TRAMPOLINE RIDE AND HE RODE CHILDREN ON HIS NECK TO RAISE MONEY FOR THE BOSS'S TREATMENT.

Kaku turns into a giraffe-human by being ordered to eat a devil fruit by his boss, and the first thing this man does is hop on the giraffe propaganda train, no hesitation. His collegues are wolfs and leopards. Does Kaku mope about being a giraffe? No! He literally holds a whole speech explaining why giraffes are both dope, cool and the most lethal animal on the savanna. Then proceeds to unleash the limitless destructive power of the giraffe. Kaku is the no. 1 giraffe character, hands down, no competition, I will die on this hill, give me 1000 dollars.

Miyoshi Kazunari propaganda:

I don’t know how to explain this in a cohesive way that doesn’t sound like I’m insane but this silly little actor visual novel has a canon furry event. All of the characters have canon fursonas. Okay, let me explain. Every year, the April fool’s event involves an AU, just for fun. Other years have included a host club, magic school, time travel, a fighting game, etc. This one was an AU where all the characters were animals, and it was by far the most extensive, given that it had its own full-blown event as opposed to a single card and side story like in the past. I couldn’t tell you if Kazunari counts given the submission rules and A3!’s circumstances, but it would be cool if he got in as A3! is generally a smaller franchise.

[poisonthefuckingwell]

What are some of the top long-tail keywords currently trending in the gen z demographic?

Gen y and gen boomer doomer slang differ from what those crazy youngins are saying in the average classroom. Your child may be discussing substances or seductive peer to peer body contact sports under your very elderly and unhip nose. For shame. For SHAME . Your raggedy trampoline is innocuous and the teenagers are having a slurping good time without you. What is the world coming to? What happened? I am going to eat your skin. Not that skin. The one I your no no square. That's right. What are you gonna do about it? Cry? Fat chance. Fleek. Yeet. Gyatt. Ohio. Ohio inst real. And more. Do you know what an anime is? Didnt think so. Hot potato and then you have a kitchenaid mixer and that's the end of that. Gyatt is the same thing as hell but we can just get a fridge. The Naruto run is a self defense move routinely practiced by members of the navy seals to dodge bullets. I. The year 1798 it was developed by fleeing members of the teratophilia faith to help them commune with the with the many tentacled God. Modern day man has converted it into a new tiktok challenge known only as "the hustle". Teachers are concerned this may lead to infighting amongst the less cool hidden villages. Which is to say all of them.

[neon-kazoo]

Hero and Villain go to Sky Zone

Hero dodged to the left, then quickly to the right. Bright red pillars scattered around them, and they weaved gracefully between them. They grabbed the coarse ropes of a net, and scrambled upwards as fast as their tangled limbs could take them. They risked a glance to their left and caught a glimpse of Villain doing the same. They quickly reached up, using their trained grip strength to traverse a ten foot gap in their path. They had to be faster. They had to work harder. They had to win.

Their feet hit the ground with painful reverberation, but there was no time to stop and rest. Diving forward, they crawled through the darkened tunnel, their knees sliding on the slick material as they pushed forward. Up ahead, they could see the light at the end of the tube illuminating an open plain occupied only by the spinning blades of the final obstacle.

They reached it in record time, wasting not even a second to deliberate. They saw a gap and they lunged for it. A blade came hurtling towards them and they jumped, moving forward a step before the next one came. They leapt over the following blade, clearing it just before something crashed into them from behind. Sprawled out flat, they lifted their head to locate their assailant. Unfortunately, they forgot to calculate for the velocity of the forgotten obstacle. While Villain ducked under the last blade and made it to the gap in the wall, Hero was left behind to get smacked in the head.

Dazed, Hero finally managed to stumble off the padded plain and onto more solid ground.

“That’s the most impressive run I’ve seen today,” a man in a red polo shirt congratulated, but the two finishers were already racing past him.

Seeing an opening, Villain ran past and grabbed a long pole, then dashed onto a long beam and turned to face Hero.

All around the open building, young eyes followed the two enthusiastic players.

Hero, accepting the challenge, grabbed a pole for themselves and followed Villain out onto the beam.

“You picked the wrong section. My balance is unmatched,” Hero taunted, holding up their red weapon with two cushioned ends.

Villain replied, matching Hero’s stance with their blue padded weapon, “Really? How’s your hit absorption?”

Villain swung for the ribs and was blocked, red colliding with blue in a struggle for leverage. Both opponents swayed unsteadily, their feet wobbling and their eyes scanning for possible landing zones below them.

When they inevitably both went tumbling into a sea of primary colors, screams of victory followed them both.

Foam blocks were flying five, then ten feet in the air. Blurs of red, yellow, and blue obscured the views of the children who stood wide-eyed at the edge of the pit. One cube veered far off course, hitting a young girl in the face. She and the others wisely took a step back. Oblivious to the stunned—but unharmed— child, the polyurethane war continued.

Villain was the first to their feet, and they abandoned the pit and headed for where the floor turned black and bouncy, broken by a grid of red padding. They bounced diagonally to the farthest corner where the trampolines covered the walls as well as the floor. Hero, hot on their tail, jumped between the squares at an impressive speed.

Before they could reach Villain, they were caught on the wrist by different man in a red shirt and khaki shorts.

“Hey, it’s time to go,” he said, tapping his wrist at his watch.

“What?” Hero asked in confusion, looking down at their own wrist where a yellow paper band laid.

Beyond them, Villain stopped bouncing to watch the scene unfold.

“I’m sorry, you only paid for an hour,” the attendant explained patiently.

“But- But! What about him!” Hero pointed an accusatory finger towards the villain, who looked nothing short of absolutely overjoyed by Hero’s situation.

“His band is purple. He paid for two hours.”

“What?! Then can’t I just pay for more?”

“Sorry sir, we’re full. You’re going to have to give back the socks and leave,” he spoke politely, but the corners of his mouth were frayed even with the classic customer-service smile, and it was clear he was reaching the end of his shift.

Hero deflated, knowing they couldn’t argue with the poor minimum-wage employee in front of them without compromising their morals and their public image.

“You heard the man,” Villain mocked, moving closer to the hero.

Hero’s jaw remained discarded on the floor as they reached a bench on which they could sit down and start peeling to borrowed socks from their feet.

“This isn’t over,” they called over their shoulder as they walked past a smug Villain who stood with their arms crossed over their chest.

“Sure it isn’t, just like you weren’t knocked off first.”

Hero froze, seething, but wisely chose to keep walking.

The kids were watching, after all.

[puuuders]

Aaaaah q&a stuff

1. What's your favorite TerzOmega dynamic? (ofthemorningstars)

I love ressurected Terzo, so definitely the relationship after that. I have an entire story in my pea sized brain for that. I imagine copia ressurects all of his brothers after sister imperator dies. Omega loses his mind for a little bit and avoids terzo, but then he gives it a chance and becomes ultra possessive, protective and paranoid. They end up moving out and living together and live happily ever after :3 

2. Do you prefer writing or making art? (Ofthemorningstars) 

I guess it depends. My art is very basic, I do not put a lot of time into my art. I do put a lot of time into writing, but I am not a great writer. I love both, but for big projects I prefer to write, and smaller I prefer to draw. 

3. How does it feel to find love on tumblr? (Ofthemorningstars) 

Couldn't ask for anything better

4. What has been making you distracted? 🤨 (evereverest2) 

mmmmmh see photo above babygirl (you)

5. What inspires you most to create? (evereverest2) 

 You probably noticed that 90% of my drawings are based on other people's work. I really like making fanart, as I am actually not a creative person. So definitely other people's amazing projects inspires me the most :3 

6. What is your favorite thing to draw? (Evereverest2) 

Semi-realistic portraits. I don't share those much bc idk if you would like that kind of stuff but here's some from my ghost shrine:

7. Do you have any plans for Pursuit of Something Better? How long will it be, etc. (Evereverest2) 

I have lots of plans for it. Im not sure how long it will be, but I know it will end abruptly. Also there will be a very big terzomega theme to it teehee I can't resist writing about my pookie bears. It will be mostly angst, maybe some smut but I don't know for sure yet. I know y'all hornballs would like that huh? (Me too) 

8. What got you into ghost? (Sp1ll3d1nk) 

Back in my youth (when I was in 9th grade like 2020), I was a brainrot ifunny user. I abandoned ifunny bc it got too political lol. But I was scrolling on ifunny and I came across a video and it had year zero playing in the background. I liked it so I checked the comments and someone said “is that a mother fucking ghost reference?” So I looked it up. This may hurt some of yalls feelings… but I thought ghost sucked at first bc I listened to a song that I shant name to avoid offending y'all lmao. I just didn't like it so I abandoned it. Then, I came across Square Hammer a few months later. Boner alert. Addiction started. So I got into ghost bc of ifunny lmao

9. Idk why but you seem like you were a band kid is that true? (Sp1ll3d1nk) 

LMAO that's a great headcanon. I really wanted to be in band because I really like playing piano, and my school had a few pianos. But for some reason students weren't able to play them in band, and like all of the other instruments were wind instruments and I didn't wanna play a wind instrument

10. What other things do you do besides art? (Anon 1) 

Other than rotting in my room drawing a gay couple, I really like physical activities. I regularly go to playgrounds and trampoline parks lol. I also love rollerskating and fishing

11. Are you and everest actually a couple- I REALLY CAN'T TELL I'M SORRY (anon 2) 

I think this person is anonymous bc they're jealous /j

No, we aren't actually dating... Yet. Teehee

12. What other music do you like besides Ghost (anon 3) 

Ahh I don't mean to sound like a poser /j, but Ghost is really the only metal band I like. I really like Red Hot Chili Peppers, Electric Light Orchestra (ELO), The Beatles, Queen, Elton John, mostly rock. I suppose Ghost does fall into the rock category too. A pretty obscure band I recently talked about with someone is Steam Powered Giraffe, they are very interesting individuals. 

Anyways that's all thank you pookies mwah time to work on Wounded