#recycled tiny house build

[arc-hus]

Zen Houses, Liberec, Czechia - Petr Stolín Architekt

[tinyhouseexpedition]

Ingenious DIY Tiny House Design Hacks using Salvaged Materials 🤯

🏡✨ If you've seen Christo's mind-blowing tiny house tour before, you don't want to miss this video with never-before-seen footage of him sharing in-depth creative design solutions with salvaged materials. He takes this to extreme with a process he calls "super-cycling"--using the scraps of his recycled materials in clever ways to solve problems AND save money. 

 Christo built a truly one-of-a-kind tiny house on foundation over 3 years for $80k--a work of art! And you can, too! 🛠️

[reasonsforhope]

"At the University of Maine, one of the world’s largest 3D printers is using sawdust from the state’s lumber industry to 3D print cozy wooden cabins.

It’s part of a move towards making 3D printing faster and more sustainable in a state where the housing shortage that has metastasized in most states around the country is dire.

It’s thought that 80,000 new homes will be needed over the next 5 years to keep pace with demand, and though it takes years for building codes to be changed, the technicians at the Advanced Structures & Composites Center (ASCC) at the Univ. of Maine hope their new toy can help address this need.

Guinness World Records certified the machine at ASCC as the world’s largest prototype polymer 3D printer, capable of creating a 600 square foot house 96 feet in length, 36 feet in width, and 18 feet tall entirely out of bio-based material at a rate of 500 pounds per hour.

In 2022, it could print the walls, floors, and roof of the house in just 96 hours, but the ACSS has been refining the design with the hope of doubling the printing speed and getting it down to a 48-hour timeline.

“When they’re doing concrete, they’re only printing the walls,” Habib Dagher, the executive director of ACSS told CNN. “The approach we’ve taken is quite different from what you’ve seen, and you’ve been reading about for years.”

Indeed, GNN has reported on a fair number of 3D printing projects, but most if not all involve printing only the walls. One fantastical exception is an Italian firm that is 3D-printing domed, beehive-like, modular concept homes inspired by the Great Enclosure in Zimbabwe.

STAND-OUT 3D-PRINTING PROJECTS: 

First 2-Story Home to be 3D Printed in the U.S. Reaches for the Sky in Texas 

The World’s Largest 3D Printed Building is a Horse Barn That Can Endure Florida Hurricanes

This 23-Year-Old Founder is 3D Printing Schools in Madagascar Aiming to be a ‘Stepping Stone’ for the Community

A Startup Is Using Recycled Plastic to 3D Print Tiny $25,000 Prefabricated Homes in LA

The ASCC is calling the house design the BioHome3D, and says it’s rare people who tour the concept version don’t ask when they “can have one up?”

The interior gives the feel of a modern Scandinavian wooden cabin, making it fit well with the Maine aesthetic. The ASCC is now doing work on how to incorporate conduits for wiring and plumbing “exactly where an architect would want them,” says Dagher.

WATCH a time-lapse video of the printer doing the job…

-via Good News Network, August 16, 2024. Video via The University of Maine, March 3, 2023.

[sevs-corner]

Cont Idea on: Tf 141: Mafia AU!

(Brain rotting rn so lets get it out of my system)

So I realized how this may be similar to like a gang au but I wanted it to be more fancy with the crew (Tf 141) literally treating you as their unofficial-official sugar baby.

Walk with me in my insanity real quick— I can just imagine the unconditional love and care they’d give you and you being unable to say ‘no’ because, at first, all the things they give are things that you need like:

- clothes (branded btw) for the winter, or for any cold occasion because they notice how you rotate through the same apparels and are worried how you might shiver to death. They swear that they could hear your teeth chattering from the cashier despite the warmth the bakery exudes from the kitchen. Price, on more than one occasion, had willingly gave you his scarf (he brings extras in his cars once he started noticing it and gradually became a habit) and he could just melt at seeing you all snuggled up in his clothes.

- pots for your plants (you grow your own vegetables from veggie scraps). Gaz, when he dropped you off at your apartment one time, noticed how you used recycled stuff around your very dingy- yet homey- apartment. Right at the kitchen, where the one other window was present in your apartment (the other one was by your bed), he saw by the sill how you used plastic bottles for your tiny plants and how you used your old veggie scraps, making him want to provide for you even more— but he settles for something simple for now, and then gradually build up to that when you grow more comfy and closer together. <33

- fairy lights to decorate your room with (because they know you study + work late in the night) and Ghost notices this sometimes from how your bags seem so deep. While simultaneously working a day job, you admittedly said that you were also working to get an online degree for the arts, so you could help out Nonna and Nonno’s (italian for grandma and grandpa respectively) business and make it more popular.

( Notice how they grew more downbad with that admission hehe)

- Ghost knows your stubborn and hard working, and don’t usually bend or compromise on important things like that- so instead of forcing you to rest or leaving you be, he decided to give you lights to create a better ambiance for your mini desk workspace. “Hurts the eyes less,” he says as he handed you two boxes of it after your shift. He knows your constantly works in fluorescent lights and knows how that tires the eyes more (from experience), so he thinks this would help you both in studying and for sleeping. (Secretly hoping you’d think of him whenever you gaze at it.)

- surprisingly, Soap would give you bluetooth earphones, knowing how you would work and study with them in every opportunity that you can. Working on slow days, he first noticed you would look around at the front and back before whipping out from your pocket a phone that was wrapped with the earphone’s cord, a bright smile on your face as he sees you bop your head to the beats as you worked to clean or count money or help around at the front of the house. Though, he also notice how mixed up and messy you get in it, seeing you cuss under your breath makes him chuckle but also think of how he could fix that in his own little way. Luckily he had a “spare for his mate but he didn’t wan’ it,” he says to you after an event held at the bakery. It wasn’t like he was waiting for the moment he could catch you alone to see your eyes sparkle just for him only 🫢

Overtime you got used to their gift giving that by the time they were doing all these grandiose stuff for you, it was hard to say- “no,” and deny them from how puppied-look they get. You knew that Simon or Gaz barely gave you things (they’re more of a spend-quality time of love) so you had no choice but to accept (but also to see their grins and how they would snuggle you and pepper your face with soft kisses) As for Price and Soap, you knew they would be huffy and pouty so you decided to avoid that entirely when Gaz accidentally confessed one time that — because you put him into an irritable mood, he kind of skipped the interrogation part with a prisoner (betrayed them lol) and went straight to… execution.

Yeah… it wasn’t a pretty sight. Alternatively, their genuine laughs and smiles were so of course you’d prefer that! (And they too as well~)

OK THATS IT FOR NOW ADDING MORE LATER🫶

[balkanradfem]

My neighbour came to give me some gift apples for the holidays, and I had to explain to her that my apartment is cold because I turned off the heating in all rooms except the kitchen, to save on energy while my roommates were gone for the holidays. I put my mattress in the kitchen to sleep on the floor under the tree and the radiator.

She then came later to inform me that I should turn the heating back on, because we bills will be just the same, so there's no use saving, they charge us by the square meter. I reassured her that I already knew that, and didn't do it in order to lower my heating bill, but because I believe saving energy in any way is important, and because energy always comes at the cost to the environment, and I care for the environment so much I'm happy to do this even if it's just one drop in the ocean.

She frowned at me and told me I'm not doing anything, displeased with my naive spirit. I, in turn, remained sure that I'm doing the right thing, and my spirits still raised by the idea that I'm not wasting energy.

I actually have more reasons for doing it, and some of them are that I just wanna be used to and comfortable with sustainable living. People heating the entire house when they're not even using 80% of it, is a very recent, and wasteful development. People used to heat only one room in the house, and just sleep in that same room, next to the fireplace, because it made no sense wasting all that wood, fuel and effort, when they could stay warm and cozy right where they are.

Having my entire place heated up would not make me more happy than I am, it would make me forget that any energy is even necessary for heating, if it's spent so dismissively, like it's a normal thing to do. It makes me appreciate the warm kitchen so much, every time I step into my cooled down bedroom and experience how the building would feel without heating. How wonderful it is to have a room that is completely warm, in the times of the cold.

I am aware that if it gets below freezing, I need to turn the heating on just a little tiny bit, in order for the pipes to not have a chance to freeze over and burst, I know it can happen in the times of extreme cold. But it's not even below freezing right now, so I'm perfectly safe in enjoying my little sustainable ways.

I don't think we'll have enough energy to keep big establishments completely heated while empty, if we want to have a future on this planet, so why not go back to being used to limited heating? It's not something that takes away from happiness, even if it's a slightly less convenient way of life. And we're saving energy as we do it, just like we do when we don't leave the lights on, take quick showers, recycle, turn our electronics off. Heating takes burning fuel, and burning fuel emits carbon in the atmosphere, and creates leftover waste. It's a good thing to be aware where the energy is coming from, and to take only as much as we need to be happy and safe.

[pocksprincess]

Chapter 5 - Confidence Building

Series masterlist

Obito Uchiha x f!reader

Modern AU, obi still has scars, so much flirting and simping that it's actually gross, first date in sight? 👀

Word count - 1247

Beta baddie - @dabilove27 ty for being the reason I continue <33

<- Prev | Next ->

It has been two days since Obito caught you hanging out of your upstairs window with a choked little scream. You had looked so cute in a strappy little tank top with a bandana wrapped around your head to keep your hair out of your face (after ascertaining that you were okay and not actually in danger, he only had a mild amount of shame admitting to himself that you looked good). 

You said you had been cleaning the windows and his mind can't help but wonder if you'd been cleaning the rest of the house as well. Unbidden thoughts of you pairing that tank top with tiny little booty shorts that barely covered your ass, leaning on tiptoes to dust the top of the cupboards, flooded his mind. Your shirt riding up just enough to reveal your soft stomach…

Obito has gone insane, his poor addled brain cannot stop thinking about you. He's never felt an attraction quite this powerful before, never really noticed someone and all the little things about them so thoroughly. Obito usually keeps to himself and only speaks to others when it's required, like at work, and he's been fine with that arrangement so far. 

But you make him lose all sense and reason and he barely even knows you. Maybe it is because you speak to him like he is a human being worthy of respect, look at him when you talk to him and not just his scars, people never behave that way when they first meet him. But you did. It's nice. More than nice. 

And so Obito doesn't even think twice when he sees you wander out onto the driveway to put out your recycling from his kitchen window. He rushes to open his door, hair still damp from the shower, and calmly walks (or tries to) to his mailbox under the guise of checking it-even though he already did this morning.

You turn at his approach, catching his eye, and that brilliant smile (the one that keeps him up at night) stretches across your cheeks. And in this moment, Obito desperately wishes that you would only smile like that for him.

You close the distance between you both, wandering over with a bashful look about your face, a look he's never seen on you before. You're wearing a stripy, blue tie-front top with denim shorts- the perfect picture of summer in the golden light of the setting sun.

"Hey, neighbour," you greet him, hands dangling at your front, those nervous fingers twisting together again.

"Hey." Obito feels like he should have something better to respond to you with, but his blood is rushing too loudly in his ears for him to focus.

"Sorry about yesterday, I wasn't spying on you or anything, just couldn't get the damn window open.” You chuckle to yourself, a slight grimace to your mouth as you remember the moment. 

"Yeah, I could see that. You made quite the scene." Obito can't keep the amusement out of his tone or the smile off his lips at the memory.

You look at him with wide eyes, your amiable smile dropping as your lips part in apparent surprise, gently scrutinising his expression. He should feel self conscious with how intently you're staring at him, but everything within him is too busy fighting not to stare at your full mouth and the way your lips look all shiny with gloss. Obito wants to ask you what has you so focused on him, but he doesn't seem able to form the words. 

All he manages is a rough clearing of his throat and a hard swallow. But it's enough to snap you back to the present.

You laugh then, a beautiful sound, “What can I say? I'm clumsy. And that window wasn't playing fair!” The little pout you give following that statement almost has his heart seizing in his chest.

“But enough about me embarrassing myself, please. I saw you working on your garden, it's really beautiful! I wish I had a green thumb so I could sort out the mess in my backyard.”

And without even meaning to, he's taken a step closer to you, as if he can't help but be drawn to you like a moth to a flame. A false sense of bravado courses through him at the way you look up at him through your lashes in surprise, the picture of innocence, if it isn't for the way your thighs clamp together instinctually. Your own body betrays your desire.

"Thought you weren't spying?" Obito teases, crossing his arms over his chest, and staring you down as if daring you to deny it. 

It's your turn to stutter over your words, eyes wide, and mouth opening and closing several times as you try to process his proximity and how to respond. He can practically see the little cogs turning in your brain, you're so cute. 

Maybe Obito can get used to being a little braver if it means this is his reward.

You laugh, voice barely an octave higher than usual, but your pretty face is composed once again-body language no longer timid.

“Okay, big boy, you got me there.” You mirror his own action and take the last step towards him, practically toe to toe, playing a game of chicken that you know you'll win. And he knows it too. Did you just call him…big boy? Obito isn't conceited in any sense of the word, but he knows he's large, he's worked hard to stay healthy and strong (especially after the accident). But even so, hearing it come from you? It's almost too much for him to handle. 

“But I just couldn't help admiring the view.” You utter it so casually, a small and easy smile on your face. But he watches you look him up and down, eyes roving over his hips where his sweats hang low on his frame and lingering on his chest, his crossed arms doing little to hide his muscular physique.

And that's all it takes for him to lose all composure, that fragile confidence, any and all thoughts in his brain. If it had ever been in question that you had been flirting with him, that uncertainty dissipates with your sweet words and hungry eyes. Obito doesn't know what comes over him but in the next second he's speaking.

"Yousaidyouwantedtogarden. Learn, I mean. I-I can teach you, you should come over sometime.” The words pour from Obito's lips like an unstoppable tide, jumping forth from his hazy mind without his permission, and he curses himself for being so weak and smitten. What does he do if you say no? Melt into the core of the earth, probably.

But before he can retract his offer and apologise for being so forward, for assuming that you would ever want to spend time with him outside of pleasant niceties, you accept-with a quick "Yes! I mean, I'd love to.” That coy look creeping back into your expression.

Your eagerness is honestly adorable (you look as if you like the idea more than Obito himself), especially hidden behind a sheepish smile, looking up at him through dark lashes. It's the first time he's ever seen you look so unsure of yourself. Embarrassed or surprised (and most recently flustered), sure, but not this self-doubt. Like he might suddenly change his mind and reject you, decide he isn't mildly obsessed with you. As if he ever could.

He knows then and there he's done for.

[starakex]

Costume Tetris: Storing stuff when you have no storage space

I just cleaned up my cosplay storage space recently and really optimized it down, so I thought I'd share a couple of tips on how I maximize the world's tiniest closet to somehow store most of my costumes, tools and materials.

So disclaimer: despite what I've just said, unfortunately not everything is in the one closet. I've got almost 15 years of cosplay stuff in my teeny tiny home to cram down, so some things end up elsewhere. I try to keep all my crafting materials and tools in this closet, as well as most costumes, with a priority to those currently in rotation for the year to be worn. Some of my tools are in small bins under a desk, and whatever other costumes that don't fit are bagged, folded and squeezed in the corner of another closet where they can occupy otherwise unusable nooks and crannies. My sewing machine is stored with other house tools so I don't risk clobbering myself on the head pulling it off the shelves.

The most important function of this space is easy access to anything I need ASAP, so garments, accessories/props, fabrics, makeup and the majority of my tools are stored inside. Let's take a look!

This closet can be broken down into 5 parts; the top shelf with bags of bulky costumes, the left shelves with compartmentalized bits in boxes and bags, the suspended fabric shelf containing materials and pieces of current craft projects, the garment bags on the right, and the big ol' bins on the bottom. The whole thing is graced by an IKEA LED Bar that I can either plug into an extension cable or just slap my Power Bank on if I'm lazy. (I'm lazy.) Either way, I'm never in there long enough to need a more permanent solution for lighting.

1. Bag Your Bulky Costumes!

This one is my favorite. I have a couple fursuit-type costumes now, and I found that Ikea has some really nice bags that work super well for storing bulkier, weirdly shaped pieces. In my case, each bag contains the equivalent of a mini-partial (Head, Tail, Paws), and they all feature handles that make it easy to grab-n-go the whole thing in one swoop. It keeps them out of dust's way too, which is a huge concern of mine. I'd likely store armor builds in these bags, if I actually still made those, with a bit of silk/gift paper in between the pieces to prevent the painted foam from sticking together. These bags can be stored out of the way, which prevents more fragile costume pieces from being crushed and warped over time. I think many types of bags could work for this purpose, but my favorites are Ikea's Görsnygg and Knalla. As a bonus, they have little spaces where you can put a little picture of the contents!

2. Box your bits!

Not much to say on these, as it's pretty self-explanatory; Sort your stuff into smaller boxes so everything stays together. My tip here is to get creative with the boxes you use; not everything can be solved with a slew of matching plastic bins from the dollar store! To really maximize the space (and my wallet), I also use a lot of repurposed containers, like these old jewelry chests, and takeout containers (Reduce, Reuse, Recycle!) Avoid cardboard if possible; they don't do much to protect your items from mold or pests. If that's all you have, it's better than nothing as a temporary storage solution until you find sturdier options.

In this picture, I've got all my electronics in a sturdy old jewelry case, a fragile half-mask and a bunch of print cotton in dollar store bins, and a bunch of ribbons and bias tapes in some old plastic takeout containers. I then jam some bulky crafting materials in the awkward space under the clothes bar since nothing else currently fit into the space.

3. Free Up Your Desk!

So making a cosplay is often a long process. In most cases, it takes more than a day, and if you're anything like me, your lack of space extends to more than just storage. I work on my dining table or my work desk and I need those to eat and work. In my case, my fabric bin (we'll get to that) is harder to access, so I've got a hanging organizer shelf on the clothes bar with a lot of spaces to sort different pieces over. Unless I'm painting something or working on a very large piece, I can just cram everything in there out of the way to pull it back out when I get back to working on the costume. It's super versatile; I also store some spare storage bags and my apron in there, and if it's a convention day I can set everything up to be easily found in the morning as I get ready. It won't work for everyone, obviously, but it helps me keep my space organized so I don't have to sacrifice eating on a table for a month.

4. Garment, Garment on the Wall

These ones are also self-explanatory, to be fair. A Garment bag, for those unfamiliar, is a protective fabric of plastic sleeve you slip over a hanger to protect the garment inside. There's different sizes available, and many of them zip on the front. Some cosplay pieces are just best stored this way, especially if they don't risk stretching the fabric out from gravity while hung up. Whenever possible I try stuffing every fabric piece of a costume in there, using multiple mix-and-matched hangers if needed (On the left bag here, there's a large coat and two undershirts on one hanger, and pants and a sash on a second hanger with integrated clothespins. The entire costume without accessories!) In the picture below, there's an entire Monster Hunter armor in one bag, with the flat armor pieces hanging out at the bottom of the garment bag.

You can get really optimized with this storage option; just be mindful of the total weight of everything you're storing this way, as plastic hangers will bend under too much weight (or, tragically, your bar might give under too many costumes. I've heard some stories)

5. Big Bins for Big Storage

Large plastic bins are the workhorse of my storage. The leftmost one under the shelf contains all my fabric, folded and rolled to take as little space as possible. When you're this limited in fabric space, I recommend buying versatile fabrics that can be easily reused, selling or donating extras you haven't found a use for in years to other cosplayers, and, if you're particularly short on space, planning your next costume in such a way you can make a dent in your leftovers by using them up. The other bin contains pretty much every accessory of prop for every costume I have in the house, even the currently unused ones. After having accidentally lost or crushed one too many item due to improper storage, this is my favorite way to store all those weird costume bits. This is where Cosplay Tetris comes in.

The Bin contains a whole slew of boxed, bagged and free-floating items crammed in as neatly as possible. There's props. There's accessories. There's wigs and hats. There's entire garments in there, too. In a lot of cases it's repurposed shipping bags and takeout containers all over again. The key to avoiding damage is filling up the space between bulkier or fragile pieces with soft items like those wigs or garments. Some examples:

Certain costumes are simple enough that storing them on a hanger in a garment bag would be overkill. Enki Ankarian's robes are easy to iron, so the entire costume is smashed into a shoe bag from Ikea. I also have a ridiculously heavy robe for another costume that would stretch and warp if stored on a hanger, so bagged and binned it is, too.

I have a whole slew of very small props (under 10cm wide) stored in old takeout containers, with silk/gift paper to prevent the more fragile paint jobs from getting scratched up. Little jewelry or weird pieces like Madoka's Soul Gem get further stored in smaller boxes inside to really protect them.

As most of my wigs use little to no hairspray to style them, the majority of my wigs are just stored in bags. I have a box on the shelves dedicated to storing all my wigs, but some of the unstyled ones end up in the accessory bin as padding, saving some space in the wig box for more fragile hairstyles. Here I jammed Ingo's wig and accessories into the hat so that it would keep its shape in the bin while really maximizing the space usage.

Finally, I keep an itemized list of every single item in this bin as a quick reference, that way I can tell where everything is at a glance. The list gets updated whenever something is added to this storage.

6. So, What's Next?

At the end of the day, this is about as optimized as I can get with the space I have. There are some other ways to gain some space, of course (I store a couple of costume pieces in with my regular clothes, like binders or plain shirts or sports underlayers), but as some point you will inevitably run out of space. At this point, the only solution is to empty it out a little.

I gave some tips for making a dent in the fabric stash, and the same can be applied to unused materials like EVA Foam or Worbla or Upholstery Foam, but at some point you're probably going to have to part with some of the older costumes to make space for the new ones. And that's okay! I'll admit it's a bit easier for me when the costume is damaged beyond repair, or I just no longer fit in it. You can, obviously, sell them on secondhand cosplay groups, or donate them. Unfortunately sometimes parts will be so damaged you might have to just throw them away, but that doesn't mean you have to throw the whole costume out with it! Keep whatever's still wearable and either sell/donate those individual parts or repurpose them for another costume, if possible (this is usually easiest with things like wigs or plain garments)

I hope this weird impromptu tour of my cosplay closet can give some storage ideas to those who, like me, don't have a proper dedicated workshop for the hobby! (Lord knows that's probably most of us in this economy)

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

Moving in with Katsuki Bakugo

'Katsuki, where'd you leave my books?'

'Still in the car, maybe?' Your boyfriend of over a year supplied, popping his head out of the bathroom where he's busy re-organising everything to fit the both of you. 'Figured I'd wait for ya to finish gettin' your ass kicked by IKEA before I brought more crap in here.'

'It's not crap, it's literature you uncultured swine!' You jested, sticking your tongue out at him with a giggle. 'Besides, it didn't take me that long to build the thing!'

'Uh huh, sure.' He narrowed his eyes at the wood shelf now stood in his living room, empty beside his own hefty collection of books. He likes to read just as much as you do, there was no way he'd find room for your book collection without the extra storage space. 'Watch it fold like a house o' card as soon as you put a book on it.'

'Are you doubting me, babe?' You bunched up the packaging plastic in your hands for recycling, tucking it in the corner by the door. 'You're too cruel, Kats.'

'Whatever, just go get yer damn books, and take the trash out while you're at it!'

'Yessir Dynamight sir!'

Katsuki rolled his eyes, but welcomed the kiss you pressed to his lips before you left the now shared apartment.

As soon as you were gone, he paused, taking a look at the place. His apartment had always felt...big when he was alone in it, but whenever the squad came over, it felt tiny.

Now, with your rainbow throw pillow on his black leather sofa and that gimmicky flamingo LED lamp your friend bought you on the side table, it felt like just the right size.

He knew he wanted you to move in barely a month after you reconnected. It became a habit for you to meet him at his agency after work every day. You'd grab dinner, or cook at his place as yours was pretty out of the way.

He's still pissed that you were the one to admit your crush on him, granted you'd taken at least three shots of tequila to grow the courage, but still, he doubted any amount of drink would have given him the balls to do what you did.

Ever since then, Katsuki's been determined to be the best damned boyfriend you could ever want, and judging by the fact that you're now moving in with him, he's not been doing a bad job of it.

There are traces of you scattered all over the apartment now, picture frames of your time at UA, many of them decorated by your own hand. Looking at them reminds him of just how many memories the two of you share, how natural it is for you to be part of his life.

'Jesus Christ books are heavy!' You huffed, stumbling through the door with a box so big you couldn't see over it in your arms. 'Thank fuck for my bloody quirk.'

'Here, don't break the damn floorboards, dumbass.' He chuckled, taking the other side of the box and helping you set it down on the floor beside the shelf. 'I think we're gonna need a bigger shelf.'

'Aight, save the shark references for when Kiri's over.' You giggled, eagerly flipping the box open to inhale the smell of books. 'Oooh, we should so organize our books to be all aesthetic!'

'Who the hell's got time for that?!'

'Not us, I guess!' You giggled, pulling out your books to start stacking them away. 'I'll just organize them the way I always do.'

'Why the hell do you put the hardcovers on the top shelf? If they fall on your dumbass you'll get a concussion!'

'But if the paperbacks fall from that high they might get damaged!'

Katsuki rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Priorities, babe, priorities.'

You giggled, standing on your tip-toes to put a book on the top shelf and steal a kiss to his cheek. 'Love it when you call me babe.'

Katsuki flushed pink, averting his eyes from that adorable smile you flashed him, the same smile that could make his heart race. 'Whatever, dork.'

The two of you moved together through the apartment, he let you put on music and work to the sound of the playlist you'd made together.

By the time the sun went down, you're curled up on the sofa together, dishes drip-drying on the rack after Bakugo made a favourite of yours for dinner.

He's scrolling through Youtube on the TV with your head resting on his shoulder, fingers peacefully drumming against your waist while you drifted off.

It doesn't feel new, or exciting, it feels comforting, familiar, your weight nestled into his side like you belonged there. As far as Katsuki's concerned, that's exactly where he wants you to be.

[bumblebeeappletree]

Hannah visits a tiny yard in Melbourne’s inner-city that is bursting with ideas and productive plants.

Hannah's in Melbourne to visit an inner-city patch that's small on space but big on plants and style. Garden owners, Judy and Andreas Sederof, have transformed a challenging block into a productive patch that is filled with color year-round. Situated in Brunswick east near the Merri Creek, it's filled to the brim with plants and ideas in every inch of this 66sqm garden. Judy describes it as “pretty eclectic, pretty crazy... I just collect plants. I'll see a plant and I’ll love it.” The site has been designed with the house built on the back boundary to leave a bigger space for a garden out the front. The diversity of the garden highlights different types of plants, which take advantage of the various soil profiles. Judy says, “we have quite deep, productive soil here which was nurtured, adding compost and mulch, but it really was pretty good to begin with. Whereas this side of the garden is really all on rock, so it had to be built above the ground.” There’s a lot of colour in this garden and Judy says this is due to her background in design and interiors, “I just love color and I'm always changing the color pallets and getting it to work together.”

Judy and Andreas have been designing sustainable houses for 30 years and built their own with the aim of being light on the land. Andreas says, “the four critical elements are glass, mass, insulation and most importantly orientation. We chose this block because the house faces north which is the optimum angle for sustainable building design, often called passive design.” In this home, the ceiling has 2-feet of insulation which Andreas calls “super-insulation” as it’s double the standardised requirements. “Everything in here is double or triple glazed... and to get this house to 9.5 stars, we had to provide way more concrete or brickwork than this house was planned for,” says Andreas. The sustainable principles that underpin the house can also be found in the garden. Timber used in the wicking beds is Cypress macrocarpa, which is known to be a sustainable timber, and “things like not having any hard surfaces so that the land absorbs the moisture, and it doesn't heat up the building,” says Judy. Pipes direct grey water from the shower to the garden, as well as “two squat rainwater tanks underneath the deck here that are connected to a pump; they collect rainwater from the roof. We use that a lot in summer,” says Judy.

With no bare ground in the planting style, Judy says, “one of the things is to plant heavily so it keeps weeds down. They also provide quite a lot more moisture to the site, so I mulch, but I don't have to weed very often.” Much of the garden is edible, including flowers like nasturtium, marigold and viola. Judy says, “In summer I can grow some of the bigger vegies like eggplants and tomatoes. Over winter, there's more low growing brassicas and herbs.” Judy utilises tent structures and shed walls to grow vegies vertically, as well as wicking beds that were built by Andreas. “They're really high functioning wicking beds,” says Judy, “They store a lot of the moisture, and it wicks up in the soil. I just have to put a light sprinkling of water on top when I'm growing seeds but mostly the vegetables root down quite well.” Judy takes her love of designing interiors to the outdoors and uses a lot of recycled materials, including baskets from old vineyards repurposed as planters, and an eclectic mix of mirrors, sculptures and ornaments found in hard rubbish collections. “I do collect things... I do it innately, I don't think about it that much,” says Judy and in a cool temperate garden when many plants lose their leaves, having these elements really hold the garden together. Even though it's a small space, there's more than enough happening year-round to keep Judy actively planting, improving and making the most of her little productive inner-city sanctuary. “It's a connection with the Earth to me,” says Judy, “it really grounds me... it's very soothing.”

[catalyst-collective]

2 Tiny Homes Connected w/ Sunroom! Retiree's dream home to manage MS

i designed something like this many years ago, but mine used sheds & a greenhouse kit. haven't had a chance to build one yet. this one uses top of the line materials & 2 custom retail tiny homes. this fancy lad cost $250k! one can be built for far less using recycled materials & building kits. also using more passive solar in the design & incorporating more off grid tech would improve this configuration. but i loved seeing someone else come up with and build the same basic house. her sleeping loft & kitchen are fantastic. the skylight over the bed has been a lifelong dream of mine as well. just heavenly. add about 300 plants and i'm THERE lol

[samurai-skittle-squad]

Stupid college adventure drabble for a BoS prompt. I titled the doc "Touma Energy Drink Poisoning".

     They had all gotten pretty worried after not hearing from Touma for a week. He had always been a bit of an overachiever, but taking as many extra credits as he had this semester? Was he out of his mind? Mr. Genius was going to work himself to death, that is…if he hadn't already.

“So what's in the insulated bag?” Ryo asked, as they waited in the elevator up to the floor Touma’s apartment was on.

“Food from my folks and some ingredients if we feel like making something.” Shu answered. “I figured more than likely he's been living on instant food and caffeine.”

“Do you really think he's that bad at taking care of himself?”

“When it comes to nerd shit? 100%.”

Touma lived pretty high up in one of those crowded Tokyo apartment buildings after moving for college. He had always lived in apartments before in Osaka, technically with his dad, but college was different from high school and it had been a little too easy for him to overdo it. The elevator dinged and the doors opened onto a sterile apartment hallway.

“Have you seen one of these little city apartments before Shu?” Ryo laughed. “They’re usually tiny. I don't think there's going to be much of a kitchen.”

Shu gave Ryo a hearty slap on the back. “So long as there's a stovetop, I can make due!” 

“Yeah, uh,” The blue-eyed boy coughed a little, reeling from his strong friend’s playful slap. “Based on my own past experience, sometimes there's about 3 feet of kitchen space.”

“Shit dude, I'm sure there's gotta be more than 3 feet…”

“Here we are. 642!”

Ryo knocked and they waited. No answer. He tried the doorbell, they waited, and still no answer. Shu saw his friend's brow knit with concern, no choice but to try the door. 

“Sorry Touma…” With a heavy sigh, Shu turned the door knob and to his surprise it wasn't locked. The damn door would only open about 5 inches before hitting something on the side though. “...he didn't lock the door AND there's something blocking it. Our genius is kind of a dumbass.”

“I hope he's alright.”

Shu threw his weight against the door, shoving it open with his shoulder and scattering a collection of cardboard and other recycling items on the other side and clearing the way for them to get into their friend's cramped apartment.

“Uh oh.”

“Touma! Are you home?” Ryo called out.

Yet more uncomfortable silence. The lights were out, except for one dim lamp glowing down in the other room. The entryway was crowded with recycling and trash waiting to go out, as well as a scattered collection of shoes. The kitchen area, to Shu’s dismay, was so clean it seemed to never be used except to house a small stack of textbooks. They carefully made their way to the main room, tense with anxiety, until Ryo’s foot caught an empty energy drink can.

All hell broke loose. The can crunched, Ryo yelped, Shu screamed, and Touma, who had fallen asleep at his desk at some point, startled awake, knocking over assorted empty drink cans, noodle cups, and konbini bento boxes.

“Fuck!! Did I fall asleep?! What day is it?” Not seeming to notice them, Touma started clearing his desk and squinting at his computer screen. “...Thursday? Thank god, I still have time.”

“Uh, Touma? Are you okay?” Ryo asked quietly, as if they were in a library.

“Huh?” Their blue haired friend swiveled around in his desk chair and squinted at them. 

Shu handed Ryo the bag of food and stepped around him and into the room, at the same time, Touma reached for the light switch and turned the ceiling lamp on. The drowsy young man screwed his eyes shut, grumbling under his breath about the brightness and a headache. The dark circles of sleep deprivation made his eyes look sunken and despite not being in bed, he had a frankly ludicrous case of bed head.

Touma rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and squinted at them again.

“Great. I'm hallucinating my good friends Shu and Ryo. I guess I've reached that stage of sleep deprivation.” He slumped wearily in his chair.

“Touma? Buddy? We're the real deal.” Shu laughed nervously.

“Like hell you are.” Touma scoffed, reaching out like he was going to put his hand through Shu. Instead, he weakly slapped his friend’s chest. “Oh. Shit. It's worse than I thought. Where's my phone?”

“How much caffeine have you had Touma?” Ryo asked as he started opening the cooler, watching Touma push trash and books around as he searched for his phone. 

“Don't judge me, Dream-Ryo.” 

“Dude! You aren't dreaming! We came check on you!” Shu grabbed his friend's shoulders and shook him. “Even my parents were worried about your radio silence. I even  brought you food they made!” 

Ryo handed Shu a container, and he popped the plastic container of Chinese food open, filling the cramped apartment with the smell of warm, home-made food.

“Oh my God. Shu’s family's food. You are real!”

[dnpbeats]

My old apartment in central London actually had no bin room/recycling room, it was so tiny that we couldn’t physically store any rubbish in the apartment. We took our rubbish to bins that were left on the street (like across the road). And then a couple nights a week we could leave rubbish out the front of the house for pickup.

would that be the case for a swanky new build apartment building though? like is that to be expected?? bc if d&p do live in a penthouse that shit cost millions of pounds, and then imagine you spent that much money to live in that nice of a place and you have to walk your trash across the road bc they didnt plan a place for residents to put their rubbish 😭 like it makes sense for older buildings but if that's the case in a new building that just seems like bad planning to me personally 🤷🏻‍♀️

[darkworkcourier]

Heyyyyy if it's okay, could I request body worship on Jason? Wanna spoil my boy 🥺🌟

so this is Part VI zombie!Jason, because that’s one of my favorite movies in the series and tbh i think he’s damn fine in it. i’m so down for writing for any form of jason though. ;D

(also have you ever smelled lake water when it’s nasty? gross gross gross.)

not that NSFW except for nudity! reader is mostly just taking in the view. B)

---

It's going to rain again. You groan as you look out the window, watching dark clouds prowl above the treeline. The air in the cabin smells musty, tinged with mildew that you just can't see to scrub away. And you've tried to keep it from being so damn drafty, but no amount of plywood or recycled two-by-fours can stop up all the holes. It's an old building, and you're constantly fighting a steep uphill battle against the elements.

Jason's not a huge help on that front, although he really tries his best. (You tell him so as often as you can.) He's not exactly a precise handyman. As far as you can tell, his technique is rooted firmly in the 'eyeball it' school of construction.

That's fine. That's perfectly fine. You can live with that.

What you can't live with is the fact that he smells like lake water, and that the stench gets stronger every day.

You get it. He's hesitant to change his clothes in front of you, even though you've been together for months. He doesn't own many clothes, and what he does own is patched up and liable to fall apart at the first vigorous wash. It's hard to find clothes in his size, so you just accept that until you can get to a department store (not soon, according to your calendar), Jason's wardrobe is extremely limited.

But still.

He's out at the moment, probably stalking around the woods and keeping a firm perimeter in the camp. You take the opportunity to scrub at the stone foundation of the cabin's walls with soapy water, trying to get rid of at least a little more mildew before the rain completely negates everything you do. Before long, Jason will lay in bed beside you, cuddling you close to him with every ounce of love in that zombified heart of his. In turn, you'll hug him back while really absorbing that great stagnant mud smell. Awesome.

The rain starts only a few minutes later. Naturally, it comes down in curtains. No gentle mist or soft rain. No, the meteorology gods decide that every linen in your cabin is going to get nasty as fast as possible.

And it means that when Jason finally gets home, he's soaked through.

He comes through the door in his usual hulking manner, shoulders filling the gap in the doorway, head bowed to duck under the top. After a stern talking-to about bringing bloody weapons into the house, you're pleased to see that he's machete-less, but far less pleased to see him dripping rainwater (and hopefully no other kind of fluid) all over the floor. His barn jacket is done for, and that shirt—well, you didn't like it that much anyway.

He gives a low grunt as a hello, and you grin and go up on your toes to kiss the bottom of his mask as he tilts his head down to return the gesture. Immediately, the smell hits you, and you try not to scurry away in horror. You can handle him slicing camp counselors into teeny tiny bits, and you can handle him coming home covered in viscera, but apparently that steel stomach doesn't hold up against whatever funk he has going on.

He starts for the bed, and all you have are visions of a long night with wet corduroy and denim chafing against your skin. You cross the gap between the two of you again to grab his (very wet) sleeve.

"Jason, sweetheart, hold on a sec," you say.

He turns to look at you, one good eye staring down in confusion.

You tug on his jacket until he faces you, then you reach up and pull on the lapels. "You're soaked right through. That can't be comfortable, right?"

He just looks down at himself like he's trying to gauge if he's uncomfortable like you say. In the end, he just shrugs. Clearly, it's not a big issue.

You look at the bed, again imagining the kind of night you’re going to have if you don’t nip this in the bud right now. You take in a deep breath (a potpourri—eau de waterlogged zombie) and let it out slowly before gripping his barn jacket a little tighter. You have his attention, both asymmetrical eyes on you.

“Listen, if you get in that bed like this, I’m not going to be comfortable,” you say. “Or I’ll have to sleep on the couch.”

No, you won’t. That thing predates you by at least forty years, and any cushion it did have probably disintegrated ten years ago. But the threat’s real enough.

He looks at you, eyes flickering back and forth as he apparently gauges how serious you are. Then, he reaches down and touches the lining of his jacket, hands just below yours.

He hesitates.

It’s the same dance you’ve been doing these last few months—wrangling with Jason and his weird hang-ups on himself when he’s around you. Once he’s out in his territory, he seems like he could care less what he wears (or doesn’t wear) or how he looks. He has a job to do, and as long as it gets accomplished, everything else is secondary. Then he gets home and falls into your arms, and suddenly he’s shy, freezing up, retreating.

It’s a conundrum. He won’t take his clothes off around you, but he doesn’t care that he smells like stagnant pond water. You wonder if his time in the lake or the grave killed his sense of smell off.

“Hey,” you say, soft like you’re trying to coax a wild animal. Your hands go up, framing his thick neck, cords of muscle flexing under your palms. “You’re fine. If I didn’t like you just the way you are, I would have high-tailed it out of here already.”

He gives you a look that pretty much just says doubtful. Maybe because the only way you would have left the camp otherwise was in a body bag. You don’t dwell on that too much.

You go on, “I like you for you, Jason. Can I show you that?”

He tilts his head. For a moment, you think he doesn’t understand your intentions, but then he gives a slow, askew nod.

You’re not going to tug him to the bed like you usually do. Instead, you pull his jacket off as he stands there, dripping on the damp flagstones. It’s difficult, wet as it is, and Jason’s height and width don’t help the issue. But you manage, carefully pulling his arms through the sleeves, then dropping the jacket (with a disturbingly wet sound) on the floor behind you.

Then, you start working on the buttons of his flannel shirt. Most of the buttons are clinging on for dear life, fighting against the bulk of his chest and the worn threads. You go about it slowly, reverently, trying to show him as best you can that you adore every piece of him. Little by little, you expose his chest, the strange gray hue of his skin, the weirdly hypnotizing way his pectoral muscles move under the dead flesh.

You feel him lightly tug back against your grip, clearly growing more reticent about showing himself to you. But you pull back, even though if he really wanted to get away, he’d do so and probably take your hands with him. You pause in undoing his shirt to run one hand over his chest with a feather-light touch. His skin is cool to the touch, and you wonder how much sensation he has left, if he has any at all. You’ve seen him take hit after hit from rifles, shotguns, blades, skewers—pretty much any implement that would inflict pain on a normal person. Those scars form constellations on his skin now, starbursts of gunfire connected to each other through long scars from blades.

Goddamn, if he’d taken his clothes off sooner, you would have had his whole body mapped by now. That’s a hell of a missed opportunity.

“You’re fine,” you whisper to him, leaning in enough to kiss the divot between his collarbones.

He lets out a soft whush of air that you interpret as a sigh, and then one of his hands finds your waist, pulling you closer. Permission granted.

The rest of his shirt comes off fairly easy, and you manage to hide your disgust at the feeling of literally peeling it off of him. Then, for the first time since you started this relationship with him, you see him shirtless.

He’s barrel-chested, built so solidly that it’s no surprise he can lift people right over his head without effort. And sure enough, his skin is mottled in a weirdly beautiful way. (You might be the only one who thinks so, and that’s fine. You never intended to share him, anyway.) He doesn’t have any of the bloat you’d associate with drowning, only the oxygen-deprived color. You never thought you’d think cyanosis was kind of sexy, but here you are, and there he is.

“Perfect,” you tell him, then you kiss a slow trail along his left pectoral, up to his shoulder, which is about as high as you can reach.

Jason, sweetheart that he is, bends his knees a little to give you a better reach. At first, he stiffens under your touch as you kiss his neck, approaching his jaw. But you stroke a hand over his other shoulder, soothing him as best you can.

“I won’t take off the mask if you don’t want me to,” you say, mouth close to his malformed ear. “Just let me know what you don’t want.”

You lean back enough to see him look at you; then, he closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly.

“You want to keep the mask on?”

He nods.

You smile against his neck and kiss him gently. “That’s fine,” you assure him.

Besides, you have plenty more of him to work with. You’ll see his face eventually, and you’ll probably love it just as much as you love the rest of him.

As you kiss him, your hands go down to the button and zipper on his jeans. He freezes up for just a moment, then relaxes. He trusts you, and you know better than to betray that trust in any way. You undo his jeans, then struggle a little as the wet denim clings to him and bunches up as you try to pull it down. You laugh under your breath as you try to accomplish all this without pulling away from him, but eventually you have to admit defeat.

“Hold on,” you tell him. “Denim’s pretty much the worst fabric when it gets wet.”

He watches you as you drop down to your knees, tugging his jeans down a little at a time on each side. Eventually, once they get to his knees, it gets a hell of a lot easier to remove them. You stop the effort only to help him take off his boots and socks (and that smell is brand new, even to you), then pat his ankles to get him to step out of each pant leg.

Again, you admire the sight of him. His thigh muscles are powerful, and it’s really not an exaggeration to compare his calves to a Greek statue. Honestly, if he were a little less... dead, you probably wouldn’t be his only admirer.

His underwear doesn’t amount to much, just cotton briefs that have had way better days than this. The elastic’s shot, and the only thing keeping them in place is the sheer power of dampness. Once your hands go to the band, he completely freezes up again, but this time, his muscles don’t loosen.

The two of you haven’t done anything sexual yet. From the rumors you’ve heard over time, you can guess Jason’s got a thing about sex in any form. He doesn’t mind when you kiss him, and he can’t get enough when it comes to cuddling up to you and holding you close. But he’s never touched you anywhere below the waist, or done anything that you could interpret as a come-on. You’d never push him too far, or make him do anything he doesn’t want, and you really want him to know.

“I won’t do anything,” you assure him. “We just need to get you out of these and into something drier.”

For a long, long moment, he doesn’t move. Then, he nods. It’s little more than a brief incline of the head, but you take it as the signal you’ve been watching for. Careful not to brush any part of your hand over his cock, you pull down his briefs, then discard them off to the side.

Just because you’re not going to touch it doesn’t mean you’re not going to admire it, though.

Because if the world at large knew that Jason Voorhees was packing that, people might rethink the idea of fleeing in terror. Or— well, maybe that’s a bad metaphor. Killing people generally puts off company, but there are definitely people out there who would not hesitate to bend over for this. His cock is long and thick, even when soft, and you can’t imagine what it looks like when it’s hard. Like the rest of him, it’s kind of an off-putting color (kind of a blue-gray, if you’re being honest in comparing palettes), but if Jason’s body can do everything else you’ve seen it do through what ever supernatural means, you imagine he could get hard, too.

After the briefs are discarded (and probably burnt in the fireplace next time he’s out), you reverently run your hands over his thighs, down the fronts, up the backs. You know he’s watching you, keeping an eye on your reactions as you look over his body.

You look up at him as lovingly as you can. It’s not an act, either. Sure, your wires got crossed somewhere in between running for your life from him and ending up in bed with him, but what you feel for him is pure affection. You smile at him, then lean forward to press a kiss to one hip, causing him to tilt his head again.

You stand back up, going up on your toes to kiss the holes in his mask over his mouth. “Let me get a towel,” you tell him.

He stays in one place as you go get a towel. The bathing conditions at the cabin aren’t great, pretty much limited to what you can get in the gravity well and what towels Jason gets from the counselors’ luggage. That said, you get the fluffiest towel you have on hand (it’s bright pink, and it’s awesome) and start drying him off from head to toe.

Again, you don’t really know how much he can feel, but you can tell he likes this. Maybe it’s just the sense of contact, knowing that you’re touching him. Your movements are slow, deliberate, and gentle. His eyelids droop, and he lets out a low, rumbling sound like a purr, head inclining again as he leans toward you.

Not for the first time, you wish you could read his mind. He’s clearly touch-starved, but you wonder when was the last time someone was kind to him like this.

You wrap the towel around his shoulders, then put your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest. He doesn’t have a heartbeat, but the feeling of his cool skin on your cheek is nice, and the sensation of his hands coming to rest on your shoulders makes you feel safe. Rain hisses on the ground outside, wind whistling through the pines. Everything just feels right.

You pull back just enough to look up at him, pink towel and all, and you smile.

“Take me to bed, Mister Voorhees?” you ask.

He nods, then dips his head down to gently knock his mask against your forehead in a gesture you like to think is his version of a kiss. Then, you’re swept up in his arms and deposited in bed. He lays down beside you, a hulking mass of naked man, and you wonder how you got so damn lucky.

You curl up against him, resting your head on his chest, running your fingers along his sides. In turn, he rests one of his massive hands on your chest, fingers idly playing with the hem of your shirt. The rain lulls you into a doze, and you think it won’t be long now before you’re asleep in his arms.

Best of all, he doesn’t smell like anything now.

[theoffgridcabin]

Just because it can be done, doesn’t always mean it should be.

We thought the 22 sqft mini house was crazy, the floating island home build on recycled bottles was strange and the tiny home built using an old dumpster was off the charts. But this… this is a mobile mini home with zero boundaries. Literally!

https://theoffgridcabin.com/off-grid-homes

#diy #hilarious #homemade #tinyhouse #home

[everygame]

Sega Golden Gun (Arcade)

Developed/Published by: Sega (Shanghai) Software, Sega AM1 / Sega Released: 2010 Completed: 12/03/2023 Completion: Finished it! Trophies / Achievements: n/a

Surprise entry here of a surprising game. Not surprisingly good or anything, simply surprising because here we have a Sega arcade game that I’d never even heard of before I saw it in a overpriced and tiny (but free-play once you’re in) retro arcade I was just in. It came out in 2010!

Anyway, this is an early(-ish) release of the largely unheralded Sega Shanghai, who look like they debuted with the PS2 version of Altered Beast (which I’ve never played, but it was never released in North America making me willing to assume that it’s pretty bad). Mobygames has them listed on things like Sonic Adventure in 1998, but I’d be willing to gamble that’s related to later ports as the company seems to have largely transitioned to being a “port and support” developer for Sega. However, when not doing that, Sega Shanghai has a weird history of overlooked Sega arcade titles that seem to mostly exist as a way for Sega to get a bit more out of another engine they’d made. With Sega Golden Gun, it’s an extremely transparent recycling of House of the Dead 4, but in 2007 they put out “Asian Dynamite” which is a reskin of Dynamite Cop (aka Dynamite Deka 2) that includes a character called “Jennifer Genuine”???

Sega Golden Gun is… not good. Here’s what I’ll say for it: I think it’s neat that Sega Shanghai got to use Chinese history and mythology for the setting, and Shanghai as the location–the game even ends at the “Sega Building”–but unfortunately this is about as braindead as a shooting game gets. Your pistols are fully automatic (including reloading) meaning that you pretty much just hold down the fire button and wait for your arms to get tired (which they will) while attempting to headshot the swarming enemies for the bonus. There’s no branching (while you can select which level to play next, you have to play them all) and while there’s a Resident Evil 4-style shop… guy… the stuff he sells costs you score (?) and isn’t that useful (anything with limited bullets you’ll use up immediately because you can’t save it for later, so you’re better off just going with restoring lives; I’m not even sure if raising your attack power or magazine size helps that much.)

The game is, unfortunately, like an amalgam of the things I didn’t like about House of the Dead 3 and 4: the linear boredom of 3 and the impact-free shooting from 4. You just never really feel like you’re doing anything. I know this is real grandpa material, even when discussing a game from thirteen years ago, but man, remember when arcade shooters you had to like… do stuff? Reload your gun? Aim? Pull the trigger more than once? Even use a cool foot pedal to dodge in things like Time Crisis?

Will I ever play it again? No, and I was bored by the second level and I only finished it the first time out of sheer “I should get value out of my paid entry” bloody mindedness.

Final Thought: Probably the most baffling thing about this game is there’s a huge glowing logo in the middle of the arcade machine that feels like it should do something–like it’s a giant touchpad, maybe–but it doesn’t do anything at all. It figures, actually.

Support Every Game I’ve Finished on ko-fi! You can pick up a digital copy of exp. 2600, a zine featuring all-exclusive writing at my shop, or join as a supporter at just $1 a month and get articles like this a week early.

[thegreateyeofsauron]

every mars colonization game is way too optimistic. there needs to be a mars colony builder game that’s rimworld but extremely bleak and hopeless.

picture:

you and three other people are crammed into a tiny claustrophobic hab built by contractors who cut every corner there was to cut. you were meant to spend just half a year on mars before going home and were provisioned accordingly, that was four years ago.

the first rocket sent for you hit a starlink satellite and vented its guts and crew into space. the second exploded on the launch pad. the third was never built, the ceo bought a social media site and was so busy running it into the ground he forgot all about you.

the only thing you’ve eaten since supplies ran out was potatoes washed down with a nice tall bottle of recycled piss.

the company skimped on recreation and everybody in the crew is sick of eachother already so everyone spends all non-working hours in their own little corner of the hab ignoring everyone else as best they can: you masturbate and don’t even bother hiding it. the engineer has started intentionally electrocuting herself with the frayed and sparking wires around the hab just so she can feel something, the botanical specialist has started carving faces onto potatoes, building them little potato houses made from potatoes, and pushing them up against eachother pretending they’re having potato sex with their potato spouses. he doesn’t even talk to people anymore, he’s living every hour in his imaginary potato world. and the crew psychologist just stepped out of the airlock and onto mars without a spacesuit. you consider joining him

back on earth the man responsible for all this just introduced a fourth kind of verification and more sets of rules to his social media site after a post calling him a “hairplugs bitchboy” started trending.

come play now, my lord.