#ruepa

[ruepa]

oh hi Balls SMP people. i might post all The Daily Ball papers on here. idk if yall would be into that 

[sophietexas-updates]

Sophie replied to Ruepa on twitter!

[gardenergulfie]

YEAHHHHHH ELECTRA KILL THE LIER KILL RUEPA

[dreamygeorgenap-archive]

Dream sounded so genuinely offended when it was suggested he would pick ‘host’. 

Shame on us for ever believing this genuine, kind person would ever hurt his friend in that way. Even if it is platonic, he loves George and would never want to hurt him by picking ‘host’. 

I forgot which blog it was on, but someone on here once said that Dream would never let a negative thought enter George’s thoughts especially if Dream could prevent it. 

“You’re not worthless, George, we love you.” 

[ranboo-my-beloved]

I LOVE RUEPA SO FUCKING MUCH

[dos-oroguitas]

We don’t talk about Bruno

In which you talk about Bruno either way and in a surprisingly very choreographed manner too.

requested by @lev-royal

masterlist !!

Encanto was a peaceful town, surrounded by lush forests and protected by the mountains from any harsh storms. Life in it is peaceful, quiet, and..

“Tia Mirabeeelll..!” Scratch that. Was.

“Tell us the story, Tia Mirabel!” A boy with curly hair had bound up the stairs of Casita’s staircase as Mirabel Madrigal, now in her late twenties, followed closely behind the little troublemaker whilst holding another child's hand.

“Pedro, slow down, Santiago and I could barely keep up.” Mirabel had sighed, pushing her green rimmed glasses up as the boy that held her hand had followed behind closely, little legs scurrying and trying to hurry up and chase after his brother.

“Pedro, espera..!” The little five year old that was held by Mirabel had whined at his brother, only a few years younger but already matching the same chaotic energy that his father before him had, grumbling at the older child who only laughed and munched on his arepas.

“It’s not my fault Tia Mirabel is becoming an Abuela!”

Mirabel rolled her eyes. “Ay, you are your father’s son alright. Besides, it’s not because I’m getting old! That’s your miracle’s doing!”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” He had slowed down however upon approaching the portrait of his grandfather who he had been named after. “I’m fast with and without my miracle! It’s just convenient because no one can catch me when I go for seconds! Watch!” Pedro grinned before leaning forward and without a sound had disappeared, only the rush of wind blowing behind him before he reappeared again with a basket of Arepas he had stolen from his Abuela Julieta.

There was silence for a few minutes before his name resonated from the kitchen.

“Pedro, you troublesome boy! What did I say about taking seconds without permission?” Mirabel’s mamá had bellowed from below. Pedro only giggled before swiftly disappearing once more, running back to the kitchen to place it on the kitchen counter.

“Lo Siento, Abuela Julieta!” The boy had called out before returning to where his Tia and hermano was, halting at the picture frame that had his great grandfather’s image.

“Afternoon, Bisabuelo.” He greets with a smile before he turns back to the duo. “You see him, Tiago? That’s who I was named after!” He says proudly. “Bisabuelo had given up his life so Bisabuela and our family could live. That’s how our miracle came to be! Tonight you get yours!”

Santiago had listened carefully. Sure he had heard his brother tell the story of his namesake but he was always so excited and he couldn’t help but mirror that excitement too.

“I wonder what my miracle would be..” The five year old had pursed his lips which Mirabel had smiled softly at, placing a comforting hand on her nephew’s shoulder. Though Pedro was too caught up in his own world to notice.

“Bisabuela was given the miracle and raised our Abuela Julieta, Pepa, and Abuelo Bruno here in Encanto.. but we don’t talk about Bruno!”

Camilo, now older with his still unruly hair and signature yellow ruepa, had entered through Casita’s doors after helping out with today’s festivities with you right beside him. Upon hearing the familiar words, the shapeshifter had laughed.

“Papá, Mamá!” The two boys exclaimed at the sight of you. “Why don’t we talk about Abuelo Bruno again?”

“Ah, they won’t let that go, will they?” Mirabel had asked while Camilo had smiled sheepishly before gesturing to you. You can only laugh before playing along.

“We don’t talk about Bruno, no, no, no.. We don’t talk about Bruno..” You had wagged your finger at Camilo's face who only laughed, knowing just where this was going, doing the same to your sons who had only giggled as the shapeshifter held your waist, one hand holding yours as you turned to him.

“But!” The two of you looked at Mirabel and the boys at the same time. “It was their wedding day.” You had gestured to the picture of Camilo’s mother and father, who were currently outside, preparing for the festivities that would occur tonight.

“It was their wedding day,” Your husband follows.

“They were getting ready, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.” You sang, whilst dancing.

“No clouds allowed in the sky!” Camilo had sung with you.

“Bruno walks in with a mischievous grin.” Mirabel had sung along, reminiscing the exact moments several years ago.

“Thunder!” Camilo exclaimed, effectively making his sons jump before looking at one another and laughing.

You roll your eyes at your husband, turning to walk away. “Are you telling this story or am I?” Camilo looked apologetic as he caught your hand in his, fingers tip toeing up your arms. “I’m sorry, mi vida, go on.” And you smile, placing a quick peck on his lips much to your sons’ disgust.

“Bruno says it looks like rain.” You continue, picking up your skirt and letting your husband guide your movements.

“Why did he tell us?”

The singing and the dancing had effectively made the boys’ and Mirabel move their shoulders along with the song.

“In doing so he floods her brain,” You continue. “Abuela, get the umbrellas..!” Camilo calls out in a singsong voice.

“Married in a hurricane!” You say with Camilo following along. “What a joyous day but anyway..”

“We don’t talk about Bruno! No, no, no.” You both shake their heads at your sons’ who had looked on with excitement. “We don’t talk about Bruno!”

“Hey!” Dolores’ voice rang through the Casita although you had expected her to burst out into a song, and although the older woman had wanted nothing more but to do so, she had smiled sheepishly and shook her head, gazing at Santiago who had hid behind your skirt.

You and Camilo place a gentle hand on his shoulders as to comfort him. You two would be there, miracle or no miracle.

“Abuela says it’s time.”

Dad! Camilo Madrigal ✨I enjoyed writing this so much! For reference, your son, Pedro, has super speed! For Santiago though, you can always suggest what miracle you want him to get. As always thank you for reading!

[roseblings-moved]

bore the shadows that you made (with no light of my own)

summary:

"Fluctra knocked on Ruepa’s door.

Electra raised her wings."

Or,

Electra disbanded the Castrators. Fluctra doesn't know what to do with that.

words: 1,414

Electra had once said that morality didn’t matter— it was just a construct people made up to make them feel better about their existence. “If someone can say that there are ‘bad people’ and ‘good people,’ then they can say that they are the ‘good people.’” She’d said it like it was obvious.

Fluctra had trusted her.

She wasn’t stupid, she knew there was some value to human constructs. She had taken philosophy before; the fact that morality is a construct wasn’t news to her by any means. But Electra was her friend, her mentor, and she wanted to believe that she was right. Money was something solid and objective, morality was subjective. You couldn’t get anywhere by being good, but you could get somewhere by being rich.

(The fact that money, too, was a construct, was something Fluctra was aware of. She didn’t think about it too hard.)

Fluctra had trusted Electra. Electra didn’t return that. Now look at where they were.

Fluctra was sitting in an unfamiliar house in an unfamiliar town. Nothing here felt safe. Ruepa only let her have a few of her belongings, and he inspected the ones that he allowed, because he didn’t trust her.

Well. The feeling was mutual, at least.

Everything in Grand Magus Cove felt off, somehow, like the air itself was ready to turn on you at a moment’s notice. The eponymous sea surrounding the town was clear to a fault. Something about the silence and emptiness of the city— all houses with no people— felt like lying in wait.

Electra was sitting in a safehouse of some kind, thousands of blocks away from all known civilization. It was her and her son. That was all it had to be. It was safety incarnate.

She could rest, she told herself.

It didn’t feel real, was the thing. “Electra” and “safe” didn’t go together. The mundanity of the days felt less like a break and more like waiting for the next danger to hunt her down.

She didn’t think about it too hard. She had a child to take care of.

The rustle of a paper beneath her foot startled Fluctra. She’d been looking for the beach (because she might as well enjoy her time while she was here), but the maze-like structure of Grand Magus Cove was turning her in circles.

She checked what she had stepped on. It was a discarded newspaper, dated June 23. The headline, bolded and sitting atop an image of Taffie and Electra sitting in his candy shop, read:

TAFFIE IN LEAGUE WITH CASTRATORS! POIYA RESPONDS…

She’d known that The Daily Ball was gimmicky, but geez, was a little tact too much to ask for? She reminded herself that these were the people she was working for, now. She couldn’t criticize them too much, at least not yet. She was still trying to get them to believe that she wouldn’t betray them. She was still trying to convince herself they wouldn’t betray her.

So if she had to put up with some dumb article headlines that sometimes hit too close to home, that was okay. As long as she had people who had her back, she’d be okay.

The waves nipped at Electra’s legs. It was a good day, so she thought she’d take Drew to the ocean while she slept on the beach. “Sleep when the baby sleeps,” the parenting guides said, but her baby was a demigod so he didn’t sleep. It was a disaster.

Good news: he seemed to be enjoying… whatever he was doing. Last time she checked, he was choking a turtle in a drunken rage. Bad news: that was, like, two hours ago. Eh, he’d be fine. Not like he could die, anyways. A very indignant and very British voice seemed to say, “How could you do that to your son?” But in her defense, Taffie had never tried to raise an immortal alcoholic baby.

She’d just woken up from her nap because she was sweating her balls off, so she thought she’d take a quick dip in the ocean to cool off. She quickly realized that she forgot to pack a bathing suit, and she was not interested in walking back home with her normal clothes sopping wet, so she settled on just dipping her legs in. It did the job well enough.

She looked around for Drew. He was a bit far away, eyeing a crab with a strange amount of concentration. She smiled.

It was a good day. She could live like this.

Fluctra was ready to run. Poiya had asked to have a private talk, and if there was one thing Fluctra knew, it was that Poiya did not like her. They thought she was a traitor, said that she’d be perfect because “she’s unassuming but deadly,” whatever the hell that means. Fluctra only knew this because Taffie told her. Taffie didn’t like her, either, but he seemed to feel some sort of obligation to help her.

It seemed that most people here didn’t like or trust her. The loneliness, at this point, should feel like second nature, and it did somewhat, but it was mostly just lonely. Electra had once said that things die and— no. Electra might’ve said something, a million years ago, but it doesn’t matter now. That traitor shouldn’t be listened to.

“Fluctra.”

She stiffened.

“Hi, Poiya.” She said after a beat. She turned toward the perpetrator, drenched in the artificial glow of the floodlights. It seemed to cast a halo around their ears.

A drizzle became clear as they spoke. “You’re staying here forever, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Yeah, I am.” Fluctra nodded quickly, stubbornly avoiding eye contact. She looked at the pavement instead, which was growing puddles with raindrops you could only see if you looked closely.

“Hm. Why?”

Fluctra paused. “Because I have nowhere else to go,” she answered. It was vulnerable and stupid to say, it just spilled out.

The silence she received was loud. Her throat locked up. She was still staring at the pavement.

“I wasn’t even expecting you to show up. Guess I underestimated you.” Poiya said, finally. It was void of pity or regret.

Fluctra watched as they walked away.

Electra was running out of food in the safehouse. She’d known this would happen at some point. It made her panic all the same.

She tried to form some sort of plan. She’d have to fly out at night to avoid being caught. She might be able to steal something from Meowriza and Dave’s treehouse if she was lucky, but she was more likely to get caught and have to do labor for them forever. Fuckin’ fae.

A better idea would be to just nab wheat from the Community Farm. Avoiding Chroma might be difficult, since he spent half his time there, but it was do-able. She could use that wheat to make bread, but bread wouldn’t sustain her forever, so she’d have to kill some cows and chickens as well. She’d have to do that out of earshot from peoples’ houses, because the animals would definitely start freaking out.

“Avoid Grand Magus Cove, at all costs,” was assumed.

A tenet of being a reporter for The Daily Ball was that you had to tell your supervisor about anything that could possibly be spun as a story. If it was a good story, they’d pay you, and if it was a bad one, they’d tell you to stop wasting their time. Easy as that.

Fluctra liked the simplicity of it all. She didn’t even have to be the one to deal with the grayness of “good” and “bad.” She just had to search for news, tell Ruepa about that news, and write something about it. The rest of it was out of her hands.

But today, she hesitated. She’d known this story for a while. It was a good one, for sure. She just couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong, somehow.

Money over morality.

Fluctra knocked on Ruepa’s door.

Electra raised her wings.

Inside the office, the sound of shuffling paper could be heard.

On the balcony, the sound of wings spreading echoed throughout the empty night air.

“Come in when you want, Fluctra.” He said, his voice filtered through walls and careful silence.

“Erin, where are you going?” A familiar voice rang out, bringing to mind a face framed with pink hair and days wasted in a candy shop.

One door opened. Another closed.

[axolune]

HELLO BALLS SMP ENJOYERS!!

i’m axolune (axomoon in game) and i'm a minecraft/variety streamer on balls smp.

i heard you guys like lore so here’s a quick rundown on mine so far (and a funny lil spoiler for what i'm doing tonight)

I am a humanoid axolotl and the familiar of a witch who has gone missing. I never met anyone because she insisted I remained a secret, but after waiting for her to come home to no avail, I finally decided to leave our hut in the swamps to try and find her.

Isa (colorsisabel) was the first person I ever met, and they also taught me about what a bakery is. She accompanied me as I ran around meeting various people and asking them all if they knew of any witches. Squishyrob also asked to buy me, which ended in a compromise that I would work in his future aquarium.

Eventually I met up with Fable (angelbulbs) who spoke to my character as if we had already known each other. Fable told me about how they, with their pig Cowboy, left the SupremeSMP (a 1.17 SMP the two of us and our friend Blade have) in an attempt to get back "home" to the Aether. However, instead ended up in the BallsSMP.

I told them that I had never met them, or anyone, before, but that we could be best friends again if they wanted.

I also barged in on a conversation between Taffie and Ruepa where Taffie mentioned wanting to take me in as his familiar if I couldn't find my witch.

That's all that's happened with me as far as I can remember! Tonight will be a bit of a semi lore stream + I'll be going to the End for the first time! I'm rly excited to expand my story along with my friends and I hope u guys enjoy it too! :D

[hell-craft]

ruepa calling george a british twink counter: 2

[son-of-an-artblog]

I wanna fight c!fluctra and c!ruepa so bad oh my goddddd

[tubb0]

where are we at on the ruepa calling george a twink count? like 8?

[maximuswolf]

Things you wish you knew before going Macro via /r/macrogrowery

Things you wish you knew before going Macro

Hey Growers, I need your help. First any piece of advice you wish you knew before you started you macro grows would be really helpfull.

I've been working the last 8 years in a specialized field, a high stress high paying job, and i'm now in the process of making the move into the hemp/cannabis industry where my goal is to vertically integrate and develop my own brand, starting with flower only and expanding to edibles and extractions when I'm happy with our catalog of genetics.

I've a old family farm that i'm going to refurbish in order to produce, dry and cure high grade hemp flower to sell in the european market. The farm has around 4 300 sqft of indoor space, that i'm allocating in the following way:

​

1000 sqft for offices, kitchen for staff, archives, resting area;

650 sqft for mother plants;

600 sqft for drying and curing of the untrimmed buds;

650 sqft for processing (dry trim and packaging);

600 sqft for 500 to 1000 clones and two weeks of "pre" veg (500 plants on 3 gallon pots);

Outdoor i have 50 000 sqft, where i will be setting up two greenhouses with 5 000 sqft each.

I'm going to face big challenges and i know it, the major one is the lack of cultivation experience needed to run a operation like this, wish me luck on that, I will start small and escalate as I gain competences, 50 plants initially, squash any problems identified, 100 plants and then 500. I grew up on a farm so I do have some agricultural background, and I've had success growing cannabis on a small scale, less than 5 plants. The greenhouses will be fully automated (watering, temperature, humidity etc).

The goal by the end of 2021 is to be growing 2 000 plants/10 gallons pots in 10 000 sqft of greenhouses, that I will harvest on the 18-20 weeks. Using light deprivation I plan to harvest twice a year. So now my main doubts that hopefully you will be able to shred some light on.

Will I be able to run the farm with 3 people full time (including me) and 6 people part time for harvest and trimming, does that sounds doable ? I plan to work in batches of 500 plants.

With this setup I believe a yield of 200 000 grams, or 440 pounds, of smokable high grade hemp flower per year is achievable? 50 grams per plant (trying to be conservative on my estimates) with 18-20 weeks of development. ( I know it depends a lot on the strains, lights, conditions, etc)

What do you think of my space allocation? Should i give more room for the mother plants? I want to keep around 50 of them.

Submitted November 06, 2020 at 12:30PM by ruepa via reddit https://ift.tt/2JNayDr

[gardenergulfie]

OH NO RUEPA POSTED A NEWSPAPER SAYING THAT ELECTRA IS BANNED FROM GMC SEE THSI IS WHY THE MEDIA IS DANGEROUS

[dreamygeorgenap-archive]

Dream: “Someone pissed in my bed this morning. I’m not in a good mood.” 

Ruepa: “Who was it? George or Sapnap?” 

Dream: “It was me.” 

[ranboo-my-beloved]

fuck it i had enough of politics ❤ i'm watching the loh auditions now

[dos-oroguitas]

omggggg after the ask you got about pda with camilo and when you were mentioning about y/n being shorter than him it would be so cute if you wrote a fic about short fem!reader x camilo plssss i can imagine he would tease her to high heavens😭

Chihuahua

Camilo Madrigal loved you but he cannot help how easy it is to tease you especially when you have a.. short temper.

masterlist !!

You had always been told that you lacked something. No not in the beauty or the brains department, you practically run those departments. Height. It was height that you lacked. You were convinced that God didn’t give you that because you would be unstoppable as you were now. You had honestly resembled a younger Isabela, both beautiful, sought after, and adored. You were calm, for the most part— collected, and always so ladylike so it was a wonder why you had fallen for the mischievous Camilo Madrigal. Though you were a bit short tempered. You could have had anyone as your beloved. And yet you gave the shapeshifter a chance.

Though now you were regretting ever giving Camilo Madrigal a chance.

Camilo Madrigal was many things. A shapeshifter, a prankster, a theatre boy, the love of your life, and a royal pain in the ass. Your eye twitched as he used your head as an armrest again as he ate his arepas.

“You’re brave, Madrigal. I'll give you that.” You grumbled up at him before Camilo smiled to himself before blinking and dramatically whipping his head around.

“What was that?!” He asked as he looked around, placing a hand on his brow as he acted as if he was looking for something from far away before he looked down at you and gasped again, holding onto his ruepa.

“Oh, it’s just you, chica.” He snorts, taking another bite out of his arepa as he tries not to laugh at his own joke.

“I thought for sure it was one of those pesky duendes again or at least one of Tio Bruno’s rats.”

And you swore you could punch that smug smirk off of his face as you trembled, rage burning inside of your form. Camilo’s smirk had only widened.

“Ah, mi vida, are you okay?” Blinking at the question you hadn’t expected, you gaze up at him. Was he done with his teasing? You sigh in relief, happy to be rid of the teasing before you leaned your head against his shoulder. “I’m okay, mi amor—“ And Camilo tried. Camilo tried to resist the urge to tease you. Camilo knew you had a breaking point but he was only human.

“Are you sure, my little chihuahua?” He had teased and you could feel your usually calm demeanor snap and you lunged at him. The sounds of screeches and squeals resonated from Casita as you chased Camilo around.

“Chihuahua? Chihuahua?!” You bellowed as you chased after him.

“Ah, young love.” Felix Madrigal smiled as he watched you chase Camilo down, murderous intent in your eyes and Bruno’s spackle knife in your hands.

“Lo Siento, mi vida! Ah!” He dodged as you grabbed one of your slippers to throw a him and by god you had such an accurate throw that if he hadn’t ducked down at that moment you would’ve gotten him.

“Hold still, mi amor.” You say with a sickeningly sweet smile on your face. The boy paled as Casita had managed to ‘accidentally’ trip him up.

“¡Tener compasión! Have mercy, mi vida!”

Just a short fic! I’ve been pumping out fic after fic so I thought I try a little short one today! I hope you guys like it!