#glue constraint

[vegasopave]

[4mrplumi]

(concept: redstart) batfamily x reforming criminal reader.

soft moments with redstart!reader / prequel post

> damian plays the role of being a little-brother guide, having being raised in a situation somewhat similar way as you. little moments like listening to him complain about something mundane as you’re both perched on a terrace during patrol, him trying to peel an orange and the two of you ultimately squashing it open, him doing his school homework while you watch, giving small bits of what you think.

> like this picture, but it’s reversed and the reader’s copying what he does in a way to humour him.

> reader who watches tim work on cases in their free time. asking very few questions that he’s pleased to answer, subconsciously slipping into a more articulated way of talking, using big words and metaphors to elaborate on even the simplest things. he’s very pleased to explain his work without a time constraint or worry about quality, and you’re more than happy to listen.

> i imagine they don’t really know how to communicate appreciation well in a “way that matters” since they were expected to automatically be grateful for everything in their previous family. so they learn from observing, watching people give each others gifts and presents. leaving little trinkets they find or make cleanly and neatly placed somewhere for them to find.

> is embarrassed by being recognised for it though. so the family just opts to keep it on them/use the gift in front of them so that they know they got it. reader’s happy, but keeps a straight face, voice softening in the middle of a conversation just a little when they notice.

> you’re close to cassandra too, sticking to her like glue. you both were heavily indoctrinated by your fathers that you couldn’t place the world over, healing slowly but surely. she most definitely helps you settle into your new life at the manor.

> small things, like recognising feelings you struggle to express, she notices, offering you a hand or leaning into your arm. you are neither willing to speak out what you feel, and she won’t insist. she knows, and you’re grateful that she does.

> dick grayson is a little overwhelming. it’s more of the fact that he reminds you of your other older brother than it is him offering warmth that you’re not used to. out of habit, you do try to coerce yourself into a complacent, comfortable-around-him sibling, but there’s always a little self doubt. he’s welcoming, but you subconsciously walk in eggshells around him.

> he does notice that you’re nervous around him, and brings it up one day when you, him and damian go to hang out. there’s a small conversation, and you allow yourself to open up just a bit about your struggles upon the reassuring nod damian gave you before leaving the two of you be. the pressure of being perfect, the expectations set on yourselves by yourselves, is something common between you two.

> it’s safe to say that you’re a little less weary around him after that exchange.

> now with bruce wayne things are a little tricky. he feels indebted to you for being somewhat responsible for the death of your father, something strictly against his code. you feel indebted to him the way you did for your father, for taking you in and providing you with the comfort of a home and a family.

> but on the big picture? your interactions with him are a bit difficult, awkward. ues you’ll spend time together, he’ll let you follow him on patrol, teach you about the life of a socialite too, but casual conversations are a bit stiff.

> he does try his hardest though, and you do too, to be family. the gift giving thing comes in here too. there’s not much bruce wayne can’t afford, but your small cards made with damian, origami made with cassandra and duke, and short letters describing your day written with alfred’s support warms his heart. the weight of guilt ebbs, just a little.

> if you happen to have a particular type of biscuit, or fruit juice, more often than the rest, expect bruce to remember to ask alfred to keep it in stock. seasonal fruits like guavas and oranges get imported year-round for you and the others, and that little, small extra care just makes you feel a little more appreciated. for doing nothing. your heart swells.

> solving puzzles with duke is a passtime training excersise you’ve taken up. it’s a replacement for the idle time you used to otherwise spend organising things for your father, but it’s comforting in a way other than being reassurance. whenever you get stuck on a particularly vexing crossword, he’s more than happy to sit with you and solve it. he helps you with the answer, instead of giving it, and it helps you understand that mistakes don’t undermine your efforts in anyway.

> “what matters is that you’re trying” is an oversaturated expression, but one you’ve seldom heard. and coming from him, the shared laughter and prideful “victories” from solving said puzzles, he shines an extra light through the dark window in your head that’s slowly opening up.

> jason todd is an enigma. you come across him in the manor library at dark, curious but not hostile about his looming shadow. you observe as he leaves, perceiving just a hint of hesitance from him as he climbs through the window.

> you did not much appreciate him the first time you met him, finding his opposition to bruce offensive, and your siblings slight awkward stiffness around him suspicious. you had considered him an enemy by their reactions at first, a familiar mixed rush of anxiety and impatience in your blood as you repositioned your leg carefully.

> but when he spoke, his voice wavered. just a little. and what took you up wasn’t suspicion, but familiarity. in his shadow, you saw your reflection. he was also your family.

> jason and your relationship is not much different from his with the rest. close, but only to an extent. but you understand him on a level that allows you to feel empathy for him, sadness that you couldn’t communicate it in the new ways that you learnt.

> so you slip into his dingy apartment while he’s somewhere on patrol, using your expertised ghost walking to enter without notice. you feel it’s wrong, and that there are better ways to be considerate, but you don’t care.

> alfred told you he liked to read, so you got him a book you had poured over and stuck into your heart forever. it was a little sentimental, stupid even, and you felt a bit embarrassed. he would be angry at you for entering like this, without asking, breaking in as an uninvited guest. so you reconsider your choices, and leave it in a bag outside his building, tied with a ziplock tie. you hope no one takes it.

> you’re not sure if jason ever got the book, not sure if he’d know if it was you or if he just ignored the packet and moved in. but the next time you see him out on patrol, he acknowledges you with a raised hand, before leaping away.

> it begins to feel like, your happiness is not deserved due to duty, but the consequence of your attempts at a new life. acknowledged, appreciated, noticed and even maybe loved. the moods you thought weak and unnecessary are the foundations of the stability you have found, the complications you faced with expressing them only obstacles in the face of support. sometimes you doubt their intentions are true, but even sitting among them whispers a little comfort.

> you deserve this. there is nothing you have done to not.

INTERACTIONS & Replies appreciated !!

next up: serious moments with redstart reader. the obstacles with a new life after such a violent upbringing, guilt and remorse, missing your old family, etcetera. im really just writing whatever, but do pls interact!! replies asks wtv,, it helps motivate and actually… want to write, since i kinda feel my itch to post on tumblr dying.. anyway,

thanks for reading!!

[kleopatra45]

Moon in the Houses of D9 Chart

1st House

When the Moon occupies the first house of your D9 chart, feelings become the driving force in establishing your identity. What you seek in a partner is someone who understands your need to feel things deeply and does not stifle or shun your emotions. This makes for a spouse who is most likely instinctive and sensitive to your moods. They may ease your self-soothing pursuits, providing solid support and peace of mind merely in their presence. You will be able to explore how relationships enhance your self-perception, and together with this individual, you will be at ease revealing the innermost layer of your identity. Prepare for someone who cares about your emotional state and pushes you to go beyond your limits.

2nd House

Possessing the Moon in the 2nd house indicates that the individual seeks a sense of stability and emotional containment within the constraints of relationships. Such a placement often indicates a spouse who prefers coziness, sameness, and pooling of possessions. They may have a serene down to earth personality that provides you with the peace and the assurance you need. The potential mate is most probably an individual who appreciates the need for anchor, perhaps more so one with a strong inclination towards creating a house and providing for the family. Somebody to help you build and maintain good foundations that impart a sense of security and encouragement within the connection and oneself.

3rd House

Having a Moon in the third house indicates a propensity towards relationships that are intellectually stimulating and characterized by plenty of dialogue. One requires a partner who is inquisitive, articulate, and emotionally available. Your spouse might resemble someone who loves talking about anything, serious topic or trivial, thus making you feel bonded by such verbal exchanges. They could be funny, artistic, or thirsting for knowledge and they will offer the mental and emotional challenge you seek. Conversations come easily with them, and you can anticipate enjoying the processes of learning, discovering, and creating with one another.

4th House

When the Moon occupies the Fourth House, one feels the intense craving for a warm and nurturing home which is laudable. Finding a mate who understands the importance of connections, heritages and emotions is the expectation. The potential mate is most probably one who derives satisfaction in the art of home making and prioritizes emotional connection with the propounded mate. Protective, and loving are some of the qualities that she possesses as well as ensuring that you are emotionally secure. It feels as if a fortress will be constructed, and more so, traditions and rituals will glue the two together. This deity will restore order and comfort within you as well as contentment with the relationship.

5th House

If the Moon occupies the fifth house, it implies that romance, creativity, and fun are significant features of your emotional life. You are more likely to attain a spouse with a certain innermost child, probably of a romantic, creative or an artistic nature. This individual will promote your self-expression and will aid in bringing active and playful dimensions to the relationship. Additionally, they might motivate you to explore your artist side after experiencing something beautiful together. This type of bond will have its share of play and leisure, and your wife will be very instrumental in helping you meet your emotional needs amidst love, laughter and various activities.

6th House

The Moon in the sixth house indicates that one has a craving for stability and constancy in any relationship. A spouse who pays attention to schedules, exercising and relies on the feeling of togetherness is required. Therefore, your prospective marriage partner is potentially disciplined, committed, and active in carrying on with her works— a spouse who plays an active role in sustaining their day to day activities. He might also urge you to create better habits and even assist you in bringing order in your life. This individual nurtures stability and peace within the everyday interactions of the couple and will carry you through the storms and rain with a warm embrace and unwavering affection.

7th House

The placement of the Moon in the seventh house indicates that such individuals have an emotional connection in most of their relationships and that they are inclined to believe that being in a partnership is the key to happiness. Such individuals probably seek a spouse who is loving, gentle, and responsive to them. Shisamba’s mate will most likely be the person who seeks symmetry and closeness in the relationship. This mate will know you instinctively and probably assist you in finding parts of yourself that you could not access by yourself. There will be a very intimate bond between the two of you and feelings of safety, respect, and fulfillment will be given to you in a way that is warm and affectionate.

8th House

With the Moon located in the 8th house, there can be a tendency for an individual to seek emotional depth, intimacy, and transformationalism in any relationship. A partner for this person is most likely to be someone with a dark, romantic and intense character. They may provoke your protective emotions, making you deal with your fears and weaknesses. They could be interested in something like working with the mind, the spirit, or the body, and they will encourage you to feel your buried emotions. Such a partner will not shy away from walking on the emotional deep end with you, hence, making the relationship very meaningful and healing as well. Together, you will experience love that is purging and liberating at the same time, through the process teaching you that there is strength in being vulnerable.

9th House

Having the Moon positioned in the ninth house indicates a profound joy in emotional pursuits of studies, travel or extensions in one’s views. A prospective life partner in due course will be a free-spirited and adventurous person who, most probably, belongs to a different culture or ideological setup. This person will promote your inquisitiveness, and urge you to seek answers about spiritual matters, or the big questions in life. This person allows for emotional growth in the relationship and also makes you feel bigger and better than before. It is with them that you will step out of the boundaries and gain lessons from experiences as well as from the internal spiritual quest.

10th House

With the Moon being positioned in the Tenth House, it suggests that you search for someone who will be a stabilizing force, enshrined in respect and potentially elevated social standing. This individual would apply themselves to the work at hand, fulfill commitments, and be dedicated to a cause. Such a person will be supportive of your work and ambitions, and together you will build a lifestyle that will be envied by many. They will help you maintain your public persona and assist you in integrating work and personal fulfillment. This bond will most likely have a beneficial and practical approach, where focus on joint results helps each feel secure emotionally.

11th House

If the Moon is positioned in the 11th house, one’s sense of belonging and emotional contentment are more inclined to friendships, group activities, and common objectives. You are most likely to marry someone who is rather liberal, social and broad-minded, probably someone in the field of charity or in a kind of teams’ work. They will push you to achieve your dreams and strive together with you for them, broadening the scope. This partner will be a confidant, who helps and motivates you to achieve desires that you both cherish. You will embark on a cause, and transform into a pair, inspiring and drawing strength from each other’s endeavors, while the relationship remains the area of comfort and cordiality.

12th House

When the Moon is placed in the twelfth house, it reflects an inclination toward spirituality and a desire to bond with one’s spouse on almost a mystical level. With this position, it can be assumed that one’s future spouse is likely to be an intelligent and kind-hearted person with creative or spiritual interests. They likely are soothing and serene by nature, encouraging you to examine the recesses of your mind. With them, you’ll be able to find emotional comfort, learning how to enjoy one’s company along with peace within oneself. This individual will assist in the loving exploration of more concealed layers of oneself, offering an unwavering love and primeval experience that is far from ordinary, and allowing for the appreciation of deeper, more occult dimensions of existence.

©️kleopatra45

[sleepnoises]

concept: Map Party where every attendee gets a few squares of green or brown or blue fabric 🟩🟫🟦 and then has access to stamps and fabric markers and fabric scraps and glue to create Geography on their squares. I don't know if it's more interesting to create a layout organically through teamwork or have random coordinates from a big grid. people could also draw cards for inspiration/constraints. at the end everything goes into a quilt. and then i keep the quilt

[m-artsoul]

29/07/24

shoelaces (for my unfinished fic)

A fragment of the story:

Kei reached for his bag. He frowned as the zipper kept slipping from his fingers. Looking at his hand, he saw it trembled slightly. Only then did he note the pulsing sensation spreading all across it. During the match the adrenaline and time constraints kept his head busy enough to ignore it all. At that moment, however, it all came crashing down tenfold.

He took a deep breath, trying to tune out the dull throb and used his left hand instead. Perhaps his movements weren't as fluid, but he did manage to take out his clothes without much trouble. He blinked a few times, blurriness tugging on the edge of his vision. It must have been the warm lighting in the room, bouncing off of his glasses. He took a seat on the bench next to him, abandoning the fabrics in his hand and toed off his sneakers. Even his feet felt tingly, reminding him of all the jumps and running. It was troublesome, exhausting, yet exhilarating.

The black knee pads slid with great uncooperativeness off of his legs, almost dragging his socks with them. Other parts of his wardrobe also were misbehaving. When he tried putting his shoes back on, they were unrelenting. Their backs folded under him, not letting his feet move further in. As he glared down at the spiteful objects, a couple of different sneakers came into his view.

Tadashi bent his knees before him and before Kei could object, his right foot was being lifted. Without hesitation, Tadashi's hands and fingers moved swiftly, pushing the shoe until it sat comfortably around his heel and then tying its laces. Few people were watching the duo curiously and with bemusement.

“Yama–”

“You can barely hold anything, just let me do this,” interjected Tadashi.

Kei could feel the stares, boring holes into his skin, hear the amused snickers, but all he could focus on was Tadashi, his gentle, caring hands and his calm yet authoritative tone. The blond released the breath he didn’t know he was holding and tried to steady his heart, which was pounding to the rhythm of The Beginning. The chosen song stuck to his brain like glue, as he idly heard Tadashi singing it obnoxiously in the middle of their movie night. There was no reason for it or if there was, Kei couldn’t remember it. All he could recall was the giddiness that rocked his body, when his friend jumped onto his bed, extending his arms towards him, hurrying him up with the words of the song, “Stand up, stand up!”

Warmth crawled up onto his face, muting the logical thinking. There was something so intimate and personal, and nice in the simple gesture as tying someone else’s shoes. The pleasant feeling only strengthened, when brown eyes full of trust and admiration looked up and met a wide stare. Kei thought he’s gonna choke on the amount of emotions that flew through his body. Perhaps for the first time or maybe for the 100th, he wanted to kiss Tadashi so badly, he thought his insides would explode. His lips itched to be put against his ones. No part of him cared if they were chipped or thin or if his breath wasn’t smelling of roses, or if their teeth would clank against each other leaving them in pain.

Details:

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Pt VIII good omens a spoiler-free trailer

*walks into church, ignoring the gasps of the congregation* *holds mic to a terrified gentleman's face*

Have you ever wondered, what if the flaming sword at the Garden of Eden was insufferably in love with the Serpent?

*doesn't wait for response, shoves mic in shaking lady's face*

What if I told you, your bible studies are incomplete, because they are missing the most important story of all?

*cut to me in front of a white screen, walking seductively toward camera in a suit*

Worry not, for your prayers have been answered. Presenting, Good Omens, a kind-of biblically accurate story by Sir Terry Pratchett and Tumblr's own @neil-gaiman, now a TV show and queerer than ever. All you AO3 slow-burn hoes, we see you. You asked for it, you got it. Childhood friends is so last millennium, we give you instead, six thousand years of mutual pining.

*hard cut to David Tennant, whom I have stuck to a chair with Elmer's glitter glue* *he struggles, in vain*

Starring David Tennant and his signature slutty walk as Crowley, now in a ginger Barbie edition that comes with demonic eyes, every hairstyle and gender you could ever dream of, and instant outfit changes. It really is a miracle!

*camera swivels to focus on Michael Sheen, who is bound in blankets and looking deeply concerned*

Starring Michael Sheen the fae shapeshifter as Aziraphale, the sweetest, most cherubic murderous bitchy angel you've ever seen. Special features include automatic heart-eyes the moment he is faced with Crowley, a charming disregard for casual massacre in the name of God, and the instant outfit changes. Watch him melt your heart before breaking it! Bonus tip: try giving him sushi!

*cut back to the white screen, I am now sitting uncomfortably close to the camera*

Follow Aziraphale and Crowley as they alternatively try to follow and thwart God's ineffable plan, managing to spectacularly fail at both tasks with a consistency that amazes as it befuddles. Featuring alcohol, a bookstore, and metaphorical and literal fire as things get a little... heated in the Bible fandom.

*crossfade to Soho, I walk along the street as the camera follows me*

If that isn't enough to convince you, presenting also, idiot lesbians giving an ancient demon love advice, sexy horsepersons of the apocalypse, an unofficial wedding combined with burning Nazis alive where the most important part is the handing over of a suitcase, and the sexiest MILF witch Agnes Nutter, a literal bombshell.

*cut to disturbing close up of Neil Gaiman's face* *he tries to step away, and is met with my camerapersons*

Watch Neil Gaiman give you hope and shatter it again repeatedly, in a show where the literal apocalypse is only the background to a forbidden idiots who are lovers-to-lovers who are idiots story that is older than Time itself. Armageddon takes a backseat as Crowley serves gender, and if you thought the Antichrist was adorable, wait till you see him in Good Omens, where his evil powers are directed towards being the cutest kid he can possibly be.

*cut back to white screen, I smile ominously while twirling a human bone*

Good Omens, at your nearest Amazon Prime, with free UST, fluff, Queen, and plenty of tears. Don't miss it!

*text rapidly rolls across screen*

[Imagery has been used for representative purposes. No David Tennant, Michael Sheen or Neil Gaiman was harmed in the process of creating this advertisement. Good Omens will have expected side-effects, including unprompted sobbing, a Pavlovian reaction to bandstands, nightingales, holy water and 'the final fifteen', heartache for the foreseeable future, and intense lust for Crowley's elusive gender. Asmi is not responsible for any consequences resulting from the advertised product. Some features have been excluded from the advertisement due to space and time constraints.]

[familiarscars]

lost in control. | bad omens

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. What am I when I’m not in your shadow? Nothing but ashes. What’s left of me since you left? The torturous silence of an empty house. Love isn’t as beautiful as they say. Love weakens, sickens, makes us dependent.

And all meaning in life breaks the moment we hear a goodbye. But this story isn’t about two people who love each other. They hate each other. They left. They gave up — or rather… one of them did.

They shattered into pieces and have been agonizing for a year, trying to glue back together the shards of what’s left… with bloody fingers.

Ever since the day the house was found empty.

Martyrdom. Minds succumbed to endless torment.

Truly broken people who would rather perish side by side, even if they destroy each other, than fall apart alone. The world out there already scares us enough.

To me… that’s love. The illness in its rawest form. It’s losing control.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒)1. Lost In Control has undergone a transformation and is now heading in a new direction. The story has been reworked to be told more calmly — without the rush or typical constraints of a fanfic. Starting from the next chapters, you’ll follow a narrative with a well-defined beginning, middle, and end, characters with their own identities, more consistent subplots, and deeper development in each arc. I’ll continue using the band’s name and members, but all the other characters added will follow a fictional path and… with that familiar familiarscars touch you already know.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒)2. This is a story about confused, contradictory, wounded people — who project their pain onto what they believe to be the source of their own trauma. It’s not a healthy romance, far from it; it’s possession, dependency, an incurable blindness that, in the end, is exactly what binds them and shapes who they are. Distorted protection and emotional excess are part of who they are… so be ready for what’s coming.

FOR TAGGING REQUESTS (IF INTERESTED), PLEASE NOTIFY ME HERE!

ATO I: THE FOUNTAIN

[wonderful-magician]

My rewrite of starlight express except it's just a detailed song list

Disclaimer: this is just for fun! And also some mentions of the race 4 crash and the stuff surrounding it. Along with characters like greaseball and Electra in not so pretty lights. Though I believe they both improve as people and are good people after the show!

You can completely ignore this post! If I sound a bit negative at all just know that starlight express is literally my favorite thing in the world right now and I would give every character a smooch on the forehead.

Basically I have my dream song list that has no rules. No time constraints just fully compliant to my AU. Mostly inspired by Broadway, the Vegas pre-recorded races, 2015 Bochum and original London. All horribly mashed together with glitter glue. (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠) Except instead of just showing off my dream song list. I'm also going to explain how each song played out in a setting that one could call a movie or tv show. I was originally going to draw every song but that's simply an exhausting sounding idea when I've already started a project for drawing every character.. anyway, to my ranting!

No control sequence

My Starlight express doesn't take place in a child's imagination. Instead of a full control sequence. We just get AI control announcing the national race!

Rolling stock

Rolling stock takes place early in the morning. Rusty wakes up early to watch the diesels get pumped and ready in the early hours. As rusty still has some time before he needs to grab the coaches for the busy day. And he somberly watches the big strong diesels.. greaseball is mostly hidden by the shadows but looks absolutely awesome! Featuring his great shades even though it's dark out.

Call me rusty/new intro song

Rusty no longer gets mocked immediately by the diesels. Instead rusty skates off to wake up and grab the coaches. The disgruntled and unprepared coaches whine and warn rusty about the day as they know his plans to race. Call me rusty is a great intro song for rusty and it wouldn't mind the original being used. Though truly I feel like rusty just deserves a good I want song that's more clear about his desire to win the races to prove the power of steam! ( His wish is to win! Not get pearl. )

Lotta locomotion

The introduction for the girls. They sing a lotta locomotion while rusty pulls them to the main yard but keeps taking detours. Trying to show off his skills yet the girls keep mentioning that he's simply not a popular engine nor is he very attractive to most train standards. Though pearl is silent and somber whenever it's brought up ( she likes him )

Shortened he whistled at me, new lyrics

Once they reach the yard. Rusty rushes off to get the freight and leaves the coaches in the main yard alone. Pearl gets in an argument with Buffy and Ashley. As she defends rusty from their criticism. And Dinah just shakes her head. Pearl sings an improved solo about her desire for an engine to whistle at her. ( Implying it's rusty. )

Freight

Pearls solo is suddenly interrupted by a loud horn. As the freight train is pulled in by rusty. The girls mock the freight trucks and the trucks mock the coaches. Though they have a friendly relationship even if they mock each other. Insert the introductionsss. Once freight ends. They start to rally for the noon race.

National engines

Standard national introductions. Not much to say.

AC/DC

Electra and the components show up fashionably late for the races. Electra is introduced as powerful and show stopping like always. A superstar that wasn't even expected to appear. Electra's hypnotizing powers are shown more clearly. As he magnetizes and influences pearl. And she's amazed by him. To Rusty's distaste.

Pumping Iron

Electra is suddenly interrupted by greaseball. Who had been watching from afar since the nationals. greaseball attracts Dinah and pearl, all the components, and CB and flat-top. Greaseball is shown to be the leader of the diesels and the strongest in the yard.

Coda freight

Electra and greaseball start to tussle as they are both strong engines desiring attention and leadership. And they challenge each other to the race. Rusty interrupts them and they mock him. Before they start the march.

Pearl you're honored

Everybody needs a partner. Pearl is invited by Electra ( purse.. ) to race. Pearl originally refuses but purse gets Electra himself to make an appearance. And his magnetism begins.

rewrite of make up my heart

The song is remade to be both a pearl solo. And somewhat a gag song. For pearl is shown having a dilemma. Wanting to race with rusty but she is being hypnotized to race with Electra slowly as the song continues. Everytime she turns to face the two boys they are behaving. And Electra looks favorable, rusty looks rather lame. But when she turns- Electra is mocking rusty and pushing him around with purse. The other components come out and pearl decides to race with Electra. Rusty is heartbroken.

Race 1

There's me

Dinah is upset with greaseball cheating during race 1. ( Not realizing that CB was the main one actively cheating for GB. She's just mad that GB hit a national. ) she cries and takes a break from GB. And is comforted by CB who is upset to see his closest friend crying. The song is more comedy focused. Putting emphasis on the silly ways CB tries to help Dinah. Which cheers her up.

Poppas blues

CB helps Dinah back to the coaches. And we follow him and rusty return to the main yard. Where poppa has appeared to endorse rusty for wanting to race. And sings his song while the freight dance. By the end of it. He realizes that rusty is upset. And finds out that rusty is super upset and hurt from being mocked and left. Poppa decides to race in Rusty's place ( to Rusty's dismay. ) and races with Belle the sleeping car...

Belle the sleeping car

Belle is shown sleeping and poppa wakes her up. She sings her song. ( Rusty has some less than stellar words to say. Even though she's implied to be his adoptive mother of sorts. ) And she goes off with poppa to race.

Crazy and engine of love tidbit

Rusty approaches pearl again. Begging her to race with him instead so that poppa and Belle don't race. She calls him crazy and the song starts. As he tries to court her back ( with a lil bit of engine of love. ) She gets close to saying yes but is pulled away by the other coaches.

Starlight express

Rusty, defeated after being rejected and mocked so much during the day. Sings starlight express as the day ends. And he falls asleep knowing the next day will have the next race. ( And he's worried about poppa, and pearl. )

Race 2

The OLC rap/silver dollar

After poppa Is injured from the race but places first place. They debate if rusty can replace him in the lineup. As they debate. The grand prize is revealed. ( And the people who want it most. Are hinted. ) Rusty couples up with CB, who supports his ability to race throughout the rap.

Rewritten pearl twirl

Greaseball and Electra get in a tussle. GB bonks Electra on the head and his magnetism ceases. Pearl gets mad at Electra and moves to go to rusty. Before she's stopped by greaseball. He flirts with her and she's receptive ( who wouldn't be. ) Dinah is heartbroken by greaseball but he claims it's just some fun and it'll only be for the race. And pearl doesn't say anything to Dinah

Uncoupled

Dinah sings a sadder version of uncoupled. ( I hate it when she's treated like comedy relief! ) as she's upset that she feels betrayed by her boyfriend and her best friend. And she sings of her feelings of low worth.

Girls rolling stock

Ashley and buffy come over to comfort Dinah after they see her crying. They're both mad that greaseball treated her in such a way. ( It's also implied that Buffy and Ashley are a couple. ) and they mention some boundaries that need to be set. Before cheering her up with a song.

Dinah you're honored

Purse collects Dinah to race with Electra. ( Who was still upset about losing pearl ) And she doesn't put up a fight.

wide smile

CB is shown alone. Before he's trailing GB. And speaking to Electra through his radio. Before assuring greaseball that he's still working with him. Before skating off to Electra. And sharing his plans to crash Rusty and steal the silver dollar to Electra. Electra is shocked and allured by the plan. And trusts CB even as CB sings of his crimes. The components are distrustful of CB.

Race 3

Right place right time

The Rockies come in to explain to rusty that the system is broken. And that he'll never win because the rich and the popular control who wins and who loses. and rusty simply has no chance in ever winning against somebody like Electra or greaseball. As rusty is still reeling from being injured and betrayed by CB.

Starlight sequence

Rusty is defeated after the Rockies finish their song. And he sits down in pain from his injuries and his mental exhaustion. He screams for the starlight express and is visited by them. They inform him that he doesn't need help. and simply needs to believe in himself and do what he needs to. As the tides are in his favor.

Dustin/Dinah's disco

Dustin also had seen the starlight express. And is found by rusty. The two confide in each other for being mocked by the others. And they partner up for the last race. / Dinah rejects and yells at Electra for being a jerk. And a whiny brat. Electra is hurt ( despite it being deserved as he won't stop talking about getting second place. And deserving to get first. ) couples with CB. ( To the components dismay )

Race 4

One rock and roll too many

After the horrific crash that occurred during race 4. CB, Electra and greaseball are utterly miserable. Nearly shutting down as their bodies are wired together somewhat and broken. CB is the weakest. But they sing their song in sadness. And the silver dollar is yanked from CB after he passed out.

Only he snippit

Back to pearl. Pearl is shown singing a few lyrics from only he as she is alone. And reflecting over what happened during the races and before.

Only you

The duet between Rusty and Pearl. Pearl declares she will try her best to not let others stop her from staying with rusty. And rusty declares he'll protect her. Smooch smooch ( I LOVE THEM )

Ending dialogue

Poppa is stern with CB. And gives the silver dollar to rusty. The components are harsh to their master and teach him a few words. And Dinah makes up with GB. Saying they need to set each other's boundaries more. But she still loves him ( and he still loves her. Smooch. ) and he apologizes for cheating and messing around.

Light at the end of the tunnel

Honestly this song gives me major during the credits so just imagine a bumping credits scroll lmao. Even better? One of those 2010 animated movie dancing credits shdhdbdb

OKKK IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS ASK ME I LOVE TALKING (⁠θ⁠‿⁠θ⁠) this was fun to write. I REALLY LOVE TALKING I might make more posts like this but I'm unsure

[shove-it-graphicskatezine]

Shove it #1 > printed

Ça y est, le premier numéro de Shove it est enfin imprimé ! 24 pages réalisées en mode "Do It Yourself", qui mélangent mes passions pour le skate et le design graphique. Je l'ai créé entièrement avec de vieux magazines de skateboard, des ciseaux, de la colle, de la typographie (généralement avec des Letraset). Pour ce premier numéro, deux contraintes seulement, le format carré (148 mm x 148 mm) et la couleur verte. Si vous souhaitez commander un exemplaire, voici le lien vers ma boutique : https://escalesgraphiques.etsy.com/fr/listing/1820072804/fanzine-skateboard-graphic-design Chaque exemplaire sera accompagné de stickers.

The first issue of "Shove it" is finally printed ! 24 pages produced in "Do It Yourself" mode, combining my passions for skateboarding and graphic design. I created it entirely with old skateboard magazines, scissors, glue and typography (usually with Letraset). For this first issue, there were just two constraints: the square format (148 mm x 148 mm) and the green colour. If you'd like to order a copy, here's the link to my shop : https://escalesgraphiques.etsy.com/fr/listing/1820072804/fanzine-skateboard-graphic-design Each copy will come with stickers.

[myangelhaven]

This is my recommendations of SEUNGCHEOL fics! It will be updated once in a while for new stories I have read. Hopefully the links work (lemme know if it doesn't)

Credits to the authors!! All informations written are taken from the authors' post and has not been modified. Reminder that some fics are NOT for minors, so please read the key and avoid 18+ contents.

HAPPY READING!!

KEY

[❀]: fluff [𖤓]: angst [𖦹]: humour [☄]: sad [☾]:smut [⟡]:smau [✮]: my favs

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮---------SEUNGCHEOL----------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

ONESHOT

Three seconds by @writer-k-pop [𖤓][☄][breakup] 3.5k

6 months after breaking up, you had finally gotten used to life without S.Coups/Seungcheol and the 12 other members. You kept up with news surrounding them but you never really expected them to reenter your life. And you didn’t expect him to reenter with the explosive news that he dropped into your lap.

I dare you by @chocosvt [❀] 4.3k

your longtime campus crush just received an interesting dare: to ask you out on a date. while the circumstances are questionable, you aren’t going to decline. maybe this is your ticket to romance. 

Control by @leejihoonownsmyheart [𖤓][☾][pining] 8k

Seungcheol is the one mistake you should never make. The one you always do. The relationship that you equally have the most and least control over.

Because I love you by @starlightxsvt [❀][𖤓][pining][f2l][idiots to lovers] 9.3k NEW

harboring feelings for your best friend of years have never been this hard. now, when he shows up with a beautiful girl in his arms you aren't sure how long you can keep your feelings to yourself.

TEXTS

Nothing new by @laineov [❀][𖤓][soulmateau] NEW

after a night out drinking lots of thoughts come on your mind. some involving your youth and your relationship with your boyfriend.

SERIES

15 minutes by @gyuwoncheol [☾][breeding] 5.3k (2 parts) [part II] NEW

Despite time constraints, no one is as committed to get you pregnant than Cheol getting ready for a concert.

The way back by @suhnshinehaos [❀][𖤓][⟡] 3 parts

fans reminisce on your relationship with seungcheol

Hopelessly devoted: yours and seungcheol's friends try to pick up the pieces and glue them back together

Beginning, middle, end: seungcheol makes a facetime call and a fan makes a bold claim

Push it down (sooner or later it all comes out) by @dontflailmenow [𖤓][☾][✮✮][e2l] 50.3k (5 parts)

thirsting over your ex’s best friend in general is a bad idea. given that you and seungcheol have never gotten along, it’s even worse. when you accidentally stumble across his stream, though, and he finds out? all bets are off.

Stop loving by @svtskneecaps [𖤓][⟡][☄] 15 parts

You’d caught the disease no less than six times in the past year alone and gotten over your crush every time, but this time was different. It felt different. More dangerous. You were playing with fire and flowers, and you knew soon you’d get hurt. But love wasn’t something you just ‘quit’.

I like you by @taeyegu [❀][𖤓][⟡][✮] 17 parts

“i like you so much, i want to give you my everything, only for you…” (i like you, cho jung seok)

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄more to come!⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

☆--------------------svt masterlist-------------------☆

[smorgasvoid]

Project Dato: Syndermates of Dato (V.2)

Syndermates are a clade of animals that on Earth includes rotifers and spiny-headed worms. While typical syndermates do exist, more basal forms descended from a Cambrian stem-group have assumed various macroscopic forms, with many of the Scopalian syndermates being reef-builders alongside diatoms, annelids, bivalves, sponges, and stony coral.

Because these forms were common during Dato's Cambrian, said period is sometimes called the Rotifian period.

Due to the constraints of diffusion at such a large size, many have evolved gills or pocket lungs, though Scopalians lack gills.

Most macroscopic syndermates belong to the clade Macrosyndermata which includes the phylums Labiocoronae and Scopalia. The Triffidia, on the other hand, are believed to be a sister clade to Seisonida+Acanthocephala.

Labiocoronae includes the following classes:

Aromascolecida (spice worms and glue worms), burrowing worms that are usually filter-feeders though the species depicted are active predators. They can be as small as the average earthworm or as large as a saltwater crocodile if not slightly larger. The name spice worm stems from the highly valued substance known as Zaipu or "spice" obtained from the glands of some large species. Unfortunately, those species tend to be very territorial. Glue worms produce a non-Newtonian mucus from their retrocerebral organ which aids in prey capture.

Kartupelida (potato worms and carrot worms) are a class of macrosyndermates who have eversible mouthparts that are used to feed on plankton and detritus. They are simultaneous hermaphrodites, meaning they all produce both sperm and eggs, though they are not self-fertilizers.

Synocoronida is a class of simplistic macrosyndermates that includes the raspworms and the hexapoderos. The former (top) is a lineage of herbivores that resemble slugs, flatworms, and a few convergent clades exclusive to Dato. The latter are a type of gill-bearing synocoronids that use their mucus as a net to capture small organisms.

Musculopoda is a class of six-limbed macrosyndermates that converged with panarthropods which they were thought to be closely related. The main difference is that musculopods can't molt, instead their outer skin grows with them. The largest musculopods are the size of a medium-sized pig.

Scopalia includes the following classes:

Floroscopalia (anemonots and "true" scopals) is a class of Scopalians similar to corals and anemones. In the case of the former, they are colonial organisms that feed on small animals and sugar provided by algal symbionts. Unlike anthozoans, they cannot reproduce by budding. They make up 35% of reefs on Dato.

Crinoscopalia (lily scopals) includes many stalked and unstalked forms. All Crinoscopalians are suspension feeders that feed on detritus and plankton. Despite their sessile appearance and relation to the sessile Floroscopalia, Crinoscopalians are capable of locomotion, albeit very awkward. They are mostly freshwater.

Calamozoa (reed animals) includes many cosmopolitan clades characterized by their long bristly mouthparts that are adapted to pull in plankton and other small animals. Despite supposedly appearing immobile, they are capable of relocating if needed (tiny legs under that).

Echinoscopalia (echines) contains motile forms resembling sea urchins. The some are predators of molluscs and sponges while others are primarily herbivores, much like their counterparts. Some forms will integrate toxins from their diet into their own bodies. They were originally saltwater animals though ever since true urchins appeared during the Jurassic Wave, most echines became freshwater animals.

Shogosozoa (shoggoths) contains the most unusual forms on Dato, highly motile predators that are similar to octopodes. Due to being sensitive to light, they are found in locations with low amounts of light. Unlike octopodes, they can consume prey whole as their brain does not surround their esophagus. They live in habitats ranging from caves, deep sea floors, murky bodies of freshwater and dark forests.

The last clade we will go over are the Triffidia, an enigmatic subphylum of terrestrial plant-like syndermates that may have appeared during the mid-late Paleozoic. Motile triffids have slow metabolisms and are photoheterotrophs.

Three classes are known, Stygiphyta (sessile tree-like forms endemic to Makai and Jigoku, have a larval stage), Magnolitriffidia (magnoliid-like triffids), and Eutriffidia (derived forms). The most well known eutriffid is the vegetable lamb, a photo-omnivorous animal in the order Pecophyta. The vegetable lamb is an important form of food in some places since it is basically animal and plant, so crop and livestock.

Shoggoths are inspired by this post.

Taxonomy of Syndermata

[stay-prideful]

Helluva Boss x Reader (OI3)

Overlord Intro Part 3: The Devil XIII - Reversed

Here, have a poorly edited screenshot because I couldn’t find anything better XD

In Tarot, “The Devil” upright may represent self-constraint via your own negative behaviours. Reversed, it may represent a breakthrough, a release of your inner inhibitions. What is truly being released here?

You had the permission, you had the strength, and you had the deal. You even had a new identity you would adopt when you greeted sinners. All that was left was to find out if you could do this on your own.

Being able to track the sinners as they arrived in Hell was the last obstacle you had to face. You had been holding yourself back all this while; you had wanted to be prepared before you took this last step. Now you stood at the cliff’s edge, not knowing what would come next. Would you be able to sniff and track the names yourself? You looked like a Hellhound, but that didn’t mean you were one. Assuming you actually had the ability was a long shot. Would you need another Hellhound’s help? You trusted Loona, but she had made it clear she wasn’t going to help you in your endeavors, at least not any more than she already had been. You doubted you could ask to meet her Hellhound friends, let alone talk to them about your plan, without arising suspicion. There would also be no guarantee a Hellhound you recruited would stay loyal, or more importantly, silent. If you failed here, it could be the difference between a steady climb to Overlord status, and the potential ruin of everything you had worked for.

You were holding the list of targets for today. Something was holding you back. If you really did have the ability to track their scents using only their name, that would mean there would literally be nothing stopping you from enacting your plan. Were you really the kind of person that was capable of becoming an Overlord? Loona had warned you of corruption. You could gain power, but lose everything that mattered to you now.

You couldn’t put it off any longer. If you coordinated with Blitzø, and you didn’t have the ability, not only would it be a waste of time, you would surely be scolded, and he might even revoke his permission for you to contact victims. You definitely didn’t want that. You needed to know. Now.

Still wary of smelling the actual sinners’ names, you took a sticky note, and wrote Moxxie’s name on it. You held it up to your snout, and took a deep breath through your nostrils.

It smelled like paper, glue and ink. You were disappointed, until a series of meanings flashed into your brain. They weren’t locations, names, or even images. They were simply unique smells, but you understood what lied at the root of each of them. A path; the most efficient path at that. The carpet beneath you, the wood and paper of the walls, and the steel of the door away from you, distinct from the door that led to Blitzø’s office. Moxxie was in the conference room.

You let a triumphant laugh escape your mouth, and you saw and heard shifting from in front of you. The trail of scents disappeared from your mind, and you realized that Loona was once again on the waiting room couch. You had forgotten she wasn’t currently on a mission. She had put her phone down, sat up on the couch, and was looking directly at you.

Your eyes quickly darted back to the list of sinners, avoiding her gaze. Had Loona spotted you looking at her? She must’ve; her full attention was on you. You tried to busy yourself, grabbing the mouse to the computer, before jiggling it around. You weren’t actually doing work, just trying to make yourself look less suspicious. You heard the sounds of her paws padding over to you, and then the desk shook as she slammed her hands on it.

Startled, you looked up at her.

“Something funny?” she asked, her tone slightly aggressive. Her eyes were piercing straight through you, to your immortal soul. You were stunned silent for a moment.

“No,” you then said quickly, and unconsciously your hand holding the sticky note with Moxxie’s name clenched tighter.

Loona’s posture relaxed. Then she laughed.

“I’m fucking with you!” she said. “Seriously though, what’s got you in a good mood?”

“I found out something new I could do on the job,” you said, not technically lying. “I just made my afterlife a whole lot easier.”

At the topic of work, Loona grimaced.

“Oh. Let me know when something cool happens,” she groaned, then made her way back to the couch.

That was close. The only thing Loona knew about your journey to become an Overlord was that you were physically training with her. She had no idea about your deal with Blitzø, or your plan to don a disguise. Had she found out you had been trying to figure out if you had a Hellhound’s tracking ability, she would’ve questioned you until you spilled everything. You wouldn’t have been able to keep anything from her, strong and adamant as she was. It hurt you not to tell her your plans as a friend, but realistically, you believed that it would drive a wedge between the two of you. Blitzø had also threatened you to keep people out of your plan as much as you could.

Your heart was pounding. You actually did have the tracking ability. You were now thankful for your changed biology; this plan wouldn’t have worked without it, or at the very least it would’ve been put at a major risk.

You unlocked one of the drawers to the desk, and pulled it open. The dark cloak you had purchased as a way to hide was folded neatly inside, and Stolas’s grimoire had been laid on top of it. You shifted and glanced up at Loona, who was on her phone again. You turned back to the drawer and pulled out the grimoire, before closing the drawer. The time for the next mission was drawing near. You pulled out your own phone, and texted Blitzø, not wanting to risk Loona overhearing what you had to say to him.

IPETDOGSNOTWOLVES: Everything is ready. All I need is for you to tell me when you’ve killed the sinner topside.

It took a while for Blitzø to respond.

Mr. Bossman: O SHIT. Ur reaiiy gong thru wit thiz? Satn, uv got sum ballz.

You snickered. Blitzø always had terrible spelling, but seeing it after you had been so tense the last few days was a bit of a break from everything. As you thought about Blitzø and the terms of your agreement, you considered something new.

IPETDOGSNOTWOLVES: Hey Blitz?

Mr. Bossman: ?

IPETDOGSNOTWOLVES: If the target doesn’t see you, what’s to stop you from considering them as a client in the future?

Blitzø didn’t respond for a minute or so. You figured you could get him on board with this.

IPETDOGSNOTWOLVES: I mean, we have the people we’ve killed on record, but we’ve never actually checked to make sure none of them later became clients. What I’m saying is, if I make sure they don’t know I.M.P. was the one who killed them, I could bring them back here as a potential client. Victims becoming clients gets us more missions, which gets us more victims…

IPETDOGSNOTWOLVES: There’ll definitely be some who aren’t interested, but this could increase business dramatically, could it not? All you gotta do is make sure you aren’t seen by anybody, which you already do, but especially by the victim.

IPETDOGSNOTWOLVES: We coul

You were interrupted from your typing by Blitzø bursting through his office door, massive grin plastered across his face. Your head snapped to his position. He rushed over to you and smacked the phone out of your hands onto the desk. He grabbed your face, and practically headbutted you as he pressed your forehead against his, and you were forced to look into his massive yellow eyes.

“(Y/N). YOU. ARE. A. FUCKING GENIUS!” he cried enthusiastically, then pushed you back into your chair, with enough force for it to tip over and crash onto the floor, with you still in it. He didn’t pay you any attention as he grabbed the grimoire from your desk, sauntered over to a very startled Loona, and turned back to you.

You had quickly escaped your toppled chair, and were looking at him with wide eyes. On one hand, you were pissed that he had touched you without permission, and then threw you onto the floor, but on the other hand, you felt a surge of pride at his compliment.

“Let’s fucking do this!” he shouted, and threw the grimoire back at you. You quickly caught it, extremely wary of the priceless artifact being damaged in any way. “Open the portal (Y/N). Let’s get that money!” he smiled, placing his massive fists on his hips.

You held the book in your hand, and just stood there, still slightly stunned by his actions.

“Sir, we don’t have to go on this mission until—”

“Shut up, (Y/N)!” Loona shouted, a smile on her face as well, though hers had a hint of perplexion. She was posed in a way that looked like she was about to start running. She wasn’t aware of what was going on, but she had just been told she would be able to go on another mission today. She wasn’t about to let you get in the way of her opportunity, forcing her to sit on this couch for another few hours. “Fuck yeah, let’s do this!”

You held the book in your hands, still unsure of this. You had been hoping to spend the next few hours hyping yourself up to make a potential deal with a sinner.  You looked between the two excited faces of Blitzø and Loona, father-daughter duo. Now it looked like you didn’t have a choice; the final step to becoming an Overlord started now.

A nervous expression across your face, you checked the name of the sinner. Loona looked at the folder in your hand.

“Shit, I forgot. Here, give me that,” she said as she stalked over to you, snatching the mission debrief from your hands. She held the paper up to her nose, sniffing the name. There was barely any pause in her movements as she just said to you:

“L.A.” she groaned. “Again. I fucking hate it there.”

You nodded. The thought that you could now track the victims instead of Loona briefly crossed your mind. It would make missions faster, but she would be uber suspicious if you did that. You were not risking it. You asked her for more details as you usually did, and she gave you the usual garbled mess of meanings and landmarks she usually did. You had complained about her vagueness your first few missions, and she had really torn into you about it, questioning your then false-identity as a Hellhound, but now you knew why she had been so vague. You had experienced the mess of understandings yourself, and now actually admired her for the ability to put those meanings into words for you.

Armed with a greater knowledge, and using a digital map of the earth, you figured out where the portal needed to be. Once Blitzø and Loona got there, it would only be a matter of minutes before the job was done. Blitzø would probably ask for a portal back, and tell you it was over in the same message. You would have to find an excuse to leave the office once they came back. Bathroom was the easiest, you figured.

Without a word, you opened the portal, and they stepped through. You quickly closed it behind them. You rushed to your drawer, which you hadn’t locked back up yet, grabbed the hooded cloak, and rushed to the bathroom. You didn’t need the grimoire to cast the spell anymore, you had been learning how to do that as a regular part of your job. Your trip was briefly interrupted as you ran back to the office, realizing you had forgotten your phone, and the debrief. You made sure to leave the grimoire on the desk so that Loona could close the portal you would make for them. You made it back, and donned the cloak in a bathroom stall, double-checking that you knew which angle hid your face the best.

Your heart was beating rapidly, and you were taking short breaths. You tried to calm yourself, inhaling deeply. You were immediately thrown into another state of panic by Blitzø calling you. Already!? You silently screamed as you picked up the phone.

“Mission’s done,” Blitzø said. “I don’t think they saw us. Still, make sure to ask if they knew what killed them,” he stated firmly. “Also, a portal would be nice.”

You screamed internally, hoping Loona hadn’t heard what he just said. You opened the portal, though in the office of I.M.P., not the bathroom where you currently were. You didn’t have time to worry about what Loona would think, not seeing you there, and having to close your portal herself, as you sniffed the name of the sinner.

A series of meanings entered your mind, and still unused to the sensation, had to sniff it again to derive a true understanding. Despite never being where the ability told you the sinner was, you knew exactly where to go. You opened another portal, and rushed through, taking care to make sure your hood stayed down.

You entered a dark alley, the stench of blood and excrement sticking to every surface of the place. You were deep in, near a fence that separated you from other parts of Imp City. You closed the portal behind you, and took a closer look around. You noticed a figure at the other end of the alley, their hand not quite against the wall due to the slime that stuck to it, but still close to it nonetheless.

Seeing them, you decided you needed to carry yourself differently than you had before. You stood up straight, trying to look bigger. You tried tightening yourself up; any effort to change your appearance so you wouldn’t be recognized later would be a massive payoff.

Thinking you shouldn’t scare them away by just starting to talk, you coughed loudly. The figure whipped around to see you. They immediately slipped on a pile of a substance that must not be named, and fell to the ground.

You rushed over, and they scrambled to get up. They found themselves unable to, the unfortunate mess below them preventing them from planting their feet. They looked at you with panic in their eyes, and you realized what this must’ve been like for them. They had been transported to Hell against their will, and were now helpless before a dark figure in a cloak that prevented them from seeing the face of their potential assaulter. Though you had no plans to rob them; the only thing close to it being your plan to relieve them of their soul.

Sighing, you crouched down to their level, and held your clawed hand out to them. They stopped their slip-struggling, and looked at you curiously. You were still sure they couldn’t see your face. They reached out a tentative hand, and you hauled them up to their feet with you, practically dragging them up with your newly revitalized Hellhound strength. They were taking shaky breaths, and kept hold of your hand to steady themselves. Then they tried to pull away.

Knowing that in order for your plan to work you would have to drive the fear of Hell deep into their hearts, you gripped their hand harder, refusing to let them go. They panicked again, but made no further movements once they realized that struggling was futile. You were just too strong.

“Further into the alley,” you said. “It’s safer there.” You started walking, pulling them along without waiting for an answer. They had no choice, your grip preventing them from going anywhere else but along with you.

That was a good line, right? Make it seem like you’re helping them, while also posing the world outside this alley as dangerous? You thought.

Once you felt you were sufficiently deep inside the alley,  and the darkness would hide any significant detail of your appearance, you let their hand go. The sinner made no move to flee. They trusted you, though you knew it was by an insignificant amount.

“Do you know where you are?” you asked the sinner. Better start simple. I need them scared, but I don’t need them to be a mess. Better this than them interrupting me with these questions later, you thought

The sinner nodded their head slowly.

“I…I think I have an idea,” they said quietly. Their voice was soft, and it was definitely that of a woman’s. You could see that tears were welling up in the corners of their eyes. You sympathized with her; despite knowing the reason she was down here in Hell. She had killed her husband. Though from what you could glean from your conversation over the phone with him, he had probably deserved it. You hoped his soul was already in the hands of a less-than welcoming Overlord.

“Good,” you said. “Not that you’re down here, but that you know. I want this to be easier for you.”

Was that another good line? You were trying to be charming, but didn’t quite know if you were coming off as threatening. Either way, it would help your case.

“Do you know how you died?” you asked them. Your eyes wandered up the discolored red skin of their face, to the large mark in the middle of their forehead. It wasn’t a hole, but you could tell it was from a bullet wound. Had Blitzø shot her from the front, or from behind? If he did it from the front, you needed to know if she saw him or not.

The sinner shook their head “no.”

You grinned from beneath your cloak. Perfect.

“Who are you?” the sinner asked.

Fine, you thought. I guess they deserve to ask a question. At least I get to explain what I was already going to. Makes this faster.

“Kerberos,” you said. Again, this wasn’t your real name, but the name of the false Overlord you had invented. “I’m here to help you.” Technically true. You had made it so that your potential deal was framed as a favor to them.

“I thought it would be worse than this,” she said. “Pits of fire, demons with horns and spiky tails. It’s just…a city.”

“It’s a lot more than that,” you chuckled. “I thought the same on my first day too. Oh, and there are plenty of demons with ‘spiky tails.’ I’ll introduce you to one I know, if you’re interested in my proposition.”

She looked at you, baffled. “…Proposition?”

That was better. Drive the conversation away from any other curiosities of hers, so you could do what you had to.

“Let me be abundantly clear,” you started. “I want your soul.”

The woman flinched, and took a step back.

“I’m not going to force it from you!” you said quickly. “Nor will I bring you any harm. On the contrary, I will prevent harm being done to you!”

At that, the woman relaxed a bit, though you could see she was still tense. Was that good? You wanted them scared, but you also needed them to listen to you. You decided that was good. You felt a little disgusting having to do this, but it was needed to seize power, you reasoned.

“W-What do you mean? I want to my soul. How will giving it to you help me?”

You gave a wry smile, though you know she couldn’t see it from beneath your hood, nor in the darkness. She was still listening, though.

“Let me start from the beginning. We’re both sinners, which means we ended up down here. In Hell. Every sinner has their soul when they arrive. They can use their souls to bargain for power and resources. It’s a currency. And like currency, you can be robbed of it. Though it’s much more difficult, given it’s not a tangible object.”

You paused, giving the woman time to process this. After a short while, she nodded. That was the simplest part. Most people knew what a soul was, even if some didn’t believe in them. Fewer had heard of bargaining with them. You continued.

“There are many sinners who have gained power by collecting souls. Some have enough souls, and enough power, that they earn the title ‘Overlord.’ Those are the people that would rob you of your soul, and they would do terrible things to acquire it.”

You paused for dramatic effect, and raised your eyebrow as if to emphasize your point. Not that she could see it.

“Do you know that sinners can regenerate, Miss…?”

The woman gave you her name. You already had it, but you didn’t need her to know that.

“Miss Green.”

Then, you quickly pulled the sleeve of your cloak back, revealing your fur-covered arm. Just as quickly, you raked your claws across it, drawing blood. You let out a large yelp of pain. It stung like a bitch, but this was worth it if she ended up giving you her soul. You were thankful for your brutal training with Loona, and that the darkness obscured your fur color. The only difference between the color of your arm and your blood right now was how much darker it was.

The woman shrieked, horrified by the blood, though initially by the appearance of your arm. She was frozen, watching the dark liquid drip from your claws onto the ground of the alley. She didn’t check over herself, which made you think she had already known what she had become, and that she had gone through a similar experience to you, realizing her body was forever changed.

After a while, the wound on your arm closed up, and you showed it to her, unscathed. Satisfied, you wiped what blood you could from your fur, before pulling the sleeve back down your arm.

“Sinners can regenerate,” you repeated. “Which means that Hell really will become eternal torture for you, if you don’t surrender your soul to an Overlord.”

The woman, shaking slightly, nodded again. Her breathing was much shakier than before, and she was almost whimpering. Even if she didn’t make a deal with you, she would remember this day forever. You certainly remembered your first day.

“Once they have your soul, you will become bound to them. Bound to do their will, their bidding. For the rest of eternity.”

You gave a slight pause, for even more emphasis.

“If you were to give your soul to such an Overlord, Hell forbid one of the worst ones, you would have to relinquish all of your freedoms to them. You would be chained to that person for an eternity as their willing slave.”

You chose not to mention the exterminations to her. She gave a smaller nod this time, though still trembling something awful.

“I want your soul, Miss Green. But I don’t want your servitude. I want the power your soul will bring me, but believe me when I tell you it’s for your own good. I want to change Hell. To make it better for its citizens.”

That was technically true, though you didn’t plan on making it better for sinners. Hellhounds were your target, Imps as well if you could manage the latter.

“Do you have any questions?” you said, done with your explanation. You felt you had sufficiently elicited enough fear.

“Can I… think about it?” she asked quietly. You chuckled, partly from the fear that she was going to escape you, but mostly because you knew how to stop her.

“You can, Miss Green. Though I make no guarantees about what will happen to you if you walk away. You will face a horrifying, strange, new world with no help in navigating it. I need you to know that you will never be able to get a job down here without the status of your soul’s ownership being questioned. They will find out. And once they do, well…”

You made a slashing gesture across your throat. You panicked a little when the breeze you produced threatened to blow back your hood, but you stood firm.

“And don’t think you don’t need a job; sinners can regenerate, but that doesn’t mean they can’t starve. I’ve personally seen poor sinners devour each other when it becomes necessary.”

Also true. Cannibal Town existed, but you had also seen firsthand what could happen when sinners went “bankrupt.” Shit could get messy fast. You had managed to find jobs pretty quickly, but you had been on the streets for long enough to see what went on down here.

“I can’t help you once you leave this alley, Miss Green. You will be on your own. You will become a slave to a higher power. Just not that higher power. Your afterlife will be miserable,” you said, your tone emphasizing just how helpless she would be.

The woman was shaking. That was fine. That was perfect. Fear was the ultimate motivator.

Then, you tried to turn on what charm you had, and frame yourself as generous.

“I will take on this burden for you. I can hide, unlike you. You may know my name, but that will do nobody any good. I can give you ultimate freedom, Miss Green. I will never enslave you. It’ll be part of the deal we make,” you said, extending your hand out to her. “I’ll be bound by it.” You were convinced that she was convinced. You had told, and physically shown her how Hell could be terrifying, but you had also framed yourself as generous, someone willing to help her. Hell, she must’ve realized you didn’t have to tell her any of this, and you yourself could’ve tortured her for her soul if you really wanted to.

The woman gingerly stretched out her hand.

“You-You’ll take my soul, but I’ll be free?”

Your grin was shit-eating.

You gently took her hand, and a blue flame enveloped where you clasped each other. A slight breeze blew through the alley, its source being where your hands met. It wasn’t a large breeze, not even enough to blow a sheet of paper. That was new, though; you had never made, or even seen a soul-binding deal being made before. You looked at Miss Green, making sure she would hear every word of what you said next.

“Let me state the terms, Miss Green. If you don’t like them, you’re free to walk away to be made slave to an Overlord. I refuse to bargain.”

She nodded for the umpteenth time. Had you terrified her to the point that any word she spoke was priceless, a valiant effort?

You started speaking, each word that had been carefully chosen over the past few weeks. It was your perfect deal.

“I, (Y/N), will take your soul. In exchange, I will give you ultimate freedom. I cannot enslave you; I relieve all control I have over you, and you will be free from any power I may gain over you from taking said soul, except to be bound by the following clauses:”

The woman raised her eyebrow, giving you a curious look before ultimately saying nothing. She was still scared, but she had enough reason to know she could back out if you were asking for too much. But of course you weren’t.

“You will be unable to speak of the details of this deal to anyone, nor will you be able to harm a member of I.M.P., nor a Hellhound, should you be made aware of their presence and/or status. You will treat them with respect. If you ever meet or see a Hellhound in trouble, you must help them in a way that you deem appropriate.”

You paused; despite how much you wanted to shake the sinner’s hand right then and there­­. “Are these terms satisfactory?” you asked. You were on the cusp of gaining your first soul, and you would be lying if you weren’t at least somewhat on a high right now.

The woman took a deep breath, before asking a question.

“Sorry, what’s a Hellhound?”

You nearly started cackling from anxiety. All of this setup, all of this explanation, you were on the brink of finishing your first deal, and you had forgotten to explain what a fucking Hellhound was. You collected yourself.

“They’re a specific kind of demon. They look like dogs or wolves, but are bipedal; they stand on two feet, like you and me.  Importantly, they have red eyes surrounding a white iris. Never forget that.”

The woman nodded. You didn’t take that as confirmation of the deal, though. That only meant she had understood what you said. Then, you gave another pause, thinking of something you had promised Loona.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to add an additional clause,” you said. “It’s not asking anything from you, it’ll be something that holds me accountable.”

Miss Green nodded, though a little confused. You took a deep breath, and said the last part of the deal.

“If I ever lose sight of my dream to make Hell a better place for Hellhounds, even if I can only help those in the Pride Ring, I will willingly give up every soul I’ve taken, or will ever take, on this path.”

Miss Green looked at you, incredulous. She made several stuttering sounds before finally releasing a few words.

“That’s… noble of you?”

Then she laughed, disbelieving that you would say such a thing. She had pegged you for someone who was taking complete advantage of her. This was true, but you were showing a side of loyalty and charm that now had her convinced the sinner in front of her was true to their word, deal or no deal.

“Thanks,” you said, feeling more on edge than ever before. Even waiting for Stolas to give Loona the word for you being torn apart was better than this; at least you had gotten used to that. Here was your first deal, and you were right here. “Deal?”

The woman looked at her hand grasped within hers. She was still hesitant, but you had been convincing. Finally, she gave you the word.

“Deal.”

With that, a small, glowing portion of the flame on the woman’s hand rose up from beneath her skin and grew brighter, passed to your side of the flame, and disappeared beneath your fur. You felt a small electric jolt, and the flame was extinguished. You let go of her hand, looking at it in awe.

You felt renewed, as if you had been exhausted your entire life, despite having only expended a small amount of energy to cast a couple of portals, and regenerate your self-inflicted wounds. That should’ve been nothing to your trained body, but as you had literally doubled the amount of power in souls you had, the difference in energy felt immense. You stretched and flexed, feeling a new sense of power and freedom. You felt like you could do anything. Then you steeled yourself, remembering that while you had acquired a soul, it was only the first of the thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, that you would need to become an Overlord.

You gave a light cackle, then erupted into savage laughter. You didn’t care that Miss Green was right in front of you, giving you her reaction. You had earned this. Weeks’ worth of planning, training, preparing. You had actually convinced someone to give their soul to you! This was just the start; you would be able to help Hellhounds, you could achieve your dream, you could make I.M.P. thrive! I.M.P…

“Hey, Miss Green,” you started, after composing yourself from your cathartic laughter. “I mentioned I.M.P. before, in our deal if you remember.”

Another nod, though she had seemed to fall back into fear at the sight and sound of your rapturous display.

“Would you ever want to kill anybody still alive back on Earth, if you had the chance?”

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[crustaceanchauffeur]

OFF CASTE BLOOD COLORS

What is good my mutie crew!? it's your number one old planetary post ban from the Warren coming at you live!

This wipe we're talking BLOOD- The definin' trait of the offcaste, your blood's weird, wet, wacky, and WILD! Be it unrecognizable like our's truly Kankrizzle the Suffering Signless, blurring the hemospectrum like y'all sicknasty cuspies, or switching teams involun T-A-R-L to the Y style like yall funkilicious chromatic transition fellas out there.

So! Blood! You got it in your noodles! You paint it in your doodles! Get a lil freaky you can bake it in your strudels! We all know the 'leven on the spectrum but what about this off-caste biz? What funky hues in your shoes? Now lets get this flow started by covering them SICK base Sics.

The Leven ! You know em, you love em, statistically speakin you probably are one! Its no news to hues that burg through feu...rg.. fuchsieurg... Yeah. We got Burgundy, Bronze, Gold, Ollie, Jade, Teal, Cerulean, Cobalt, Purple, Violet, and the biggie Fuchsieurg. Nothin too inchwrestling in there, unless youve been livin deeper under a rock than even ol me. Naw- What gets you wakin' up are the Cuspies.

Is it hard to tell if you're green or blue? You look one caste in one light and another in another? You got traits of two neighboring castes? You migh' be a Cusp! Now bein' a cusp makes you just as illegal as any offcaste- you just have an easier time blending yourself right on in when y' bloods getten up all close n personal with two a the big eleven.

A good friend of mine- big goldie- real weird blood, real charmer- Now they has a theory goin' up n on that the hemospectrudle is straight up pseudoscience- a real artificial constraint keepin us down- an they think cusps are the numero uno proof. They gave me a counter argument though- real nitpicker, they- that maybe if the hemospectrum is the baseline natural order of thing an thangs and yall cuspies out there are how our spectacular spectrum bleeds together! Give that theory nuff time and hypothetically, the hemospectrum falls either way. Grub for thought I say, that that big oll order falls apart even when let live long and lone.

Some o' th weirder hemo schemos tcha girls beheldos come from what i've been told are called 'chimera,' or eggsplice for th rest o us. The eye to the dios mio es that when all yall of us are all up in big momma G, sometimes we eggy fellas get all mashed up into eachother, an some freaky stuff can hap to the gubabies. Most o the toast one o yalls prelarvas hot lava gets straight up consumed by the other. Not in a blood and food noodles way, but in a needlecritter way, slurpin' up all that good M the Grub Juise an remelting they egg pardner.

This ain' all th time though, sometimes them goopy lil gups get all globby and glue them gushers all gup and gover themgelves, getting gall gestalt and ghiit. This makes one grubtastic eggy with one itty bitty bippy in there with th amino springs o two. Two coexistin' sets jus all up in there harmonious and livin'. This makes some real strange blood and bod combos, on one prong yall can be real up there with the extra huskbits, Arms +1, +2, +3, eyes 100, thats what i call a netcritter-troll. On that otha prong yalls can be straight up indistinguishable from a typicolor grayguy. All depends how creative Momma G got mixing them gups. Supes easy be mistaken for cusphood, muddy blood hues, and blurs.

If your blood looks jus a tad diffrent depining on the limb it calls hive, might be that your crafting recipes a liiitle more diverse than you expect. Not even too many items got a good splanation for you there. And don't think you on-ies are free from splicehood, same caste chimera are a lit bit rarer an a lotta botta stealthier. Chimerahood don't just happen in duos either i hear from the big blue boy, this battle bus can be droppin' with player counts upwards of a whole clutch!

Somethin' thats right up there wit it, the nearhue of the caste mixing filial thicket is those hues that slide from one to two! Thats right yall, changing colors aint just for the ambitious goldies, mad scientists, and dyschromic! Sometimes that sweet slimey bod gets all gunkled up in the sack an apostrophe 'tivates too many acts and yall's amino springs get bouncin' out with a few too many hues! That big ol goldie i mentioned? Yeah his sizzlin sign assigned at pupation? Sagrist. When my man was pupa pan he had two horns straight like spears yet when he got just a lil past when he dodged that big ol fishies order to the borders, they crown was a straight four prong. Mothergrub's orb his prongs split and to this day like a goldie in gray my ashblood bud got a crown like an archecutioner pailed the helmsman. In all my ways an all my days for some U Enty K own reason, blue->au do be real common hue by comparizzle to the average drizzle- I seen three- Achievement get! Not countin' those with some lineated blood apostrophe lations that is.

...

Now tchagrillmaster turned that raw dogg right over and that underside real crispy flesh-carapace-o-tha-point fell right on down t' the smoulderin' smoulderclumps clumped down in the flames, an my pans slipped like y' ancient ancestor down a flight a terraced platform risers. In other words, topic do be switchmaxxing.

Now back round to big graygreen goldie, now I happen to know this tall dark and hornsome fella- real big troll- COVERED in horns all up like a grub got they candied maize picked pre pupate style cranked up a few times. Now when I met this bristly endertroll he wasn' pickin up cubes an zorpin, he was gettin' my good dehornin' friend to zaw right through one o' those big boney boys 'been blockin' his beautiful bulbs, an this cut was a deep cut- hornbeds byebye- blood 'n all an' yall never guess what color a paint this fellas had in his cellas.

Pitch at first second and third sight- cause that blood ain't changin'- color of hate so pure and true, straight up gravity-black oilstyle six ways from nubsday. Straight up color of the tyrant himself! Checked it out and 'was truly id to the cull. Splains the spikes now, dont it?

Now from the stealthy cuspie to the pitch black bloodbrother, Yall know some a the wonderful ways our hues do play.

The overdue yellow-green hue: Oftcas out.

[infiniteuality]

Hey, I’m back

[ gives you the bowling ball. ]

Here take it again, bye.

The dissonance of his cries was unbearable, not to mention the simmering irritation that boiled his divine blood, a trait he unfortunately shared with his cagemate. Black ichor that seared the mortal eye tangled up into a thousand knots in his hollow chest, the sheer force and constraint pathetically mimicked a human’s beating heart, coated in tissue rather than the void he possessed. 

  The whimpers which plagued his broken mind were drowned out as he felt a new weight enter their prison, one that was so heavy he could feel it on the soles of his feet. It wasn’t another person, unfortunately; he knew better than to think his prayers would ever be answered. But a bowling ball.

  He doesn’t say anything to whoever tossed it in, he barely even acknowledges that fact– it’s as if he’s sleepwalking, drowning out his surroundings as his goal becomes abundantly clear in his mind. The tension rises in the room before he even approaches the blunt object, he’s undeniably aware of the horrified eyes that followed his thoughtless movements, and the smell of a familiar ichor which stuck to the walls like glue– it had been that way for weeks, no, months now. Ever since he…

  He cradled the weight of the ball in his frail hands, weak body barely able to carry it without collapsing into itself– hunger was an awful thing, it drank up everything within to try and selfishly satisfy itself at the cost of the collective, an irony.

The cries became louder, incessant, a desperate pleading for mercy–

It only made his grip on the weapon in his hands tighten even more, except this time, he could feel the weight of it, the coldness of its cruel surface.

  It was so loud, He was so loud, his mind was starting to split into two because of him and he could hardly stand it–

A horrid, deafening cacophony, one who’s dissonance only became louder and louder as his hands raised the weight over his head, eyes blinded by a shroud of hate.

It was so gutturally disgusting–

. . . It almost sounded like singing.

  The ball came down with a loud groan, it’s weight made the ground of the small room rumble in pain, sanguine beauty splattered onto the walls, using them as their canvas. He could feel him cling onto his figure, velvet colored his uniform, the rawness and sticky sweetness of the gore that adorned him made him laugh; a sad, spineless sound.

He no longer had a mouth to weep, no nose to inhale sharply through, no eyes to cry. 

  . . . His thumb passed his blood-coated face, pondering in the moment of silence he had been so kindly served by another.

He couldn’t help but smile,

after all, he was still so beautiful.

[deshima]

I like to make the gifts I give to loved ones myself and nowadays I quite often manage to make them without them knowing it ( it helps that I have collected everyone's measurements over the years).

This year, however, my mom had a specific request for her birthday. She wanted a gibcière. In the past these were bags used by hunters to store small hunted game ( gibier in french) but in more modern times the term got used to define a medium sized hand bag in a half-moon shape. She couldn't find one she liked and so asked if I could make her one.

So I got researching and while I managed to define in my head how I wanted it to look I could not find a pattern that quite matched that...

So!.. Time to get patterndrafting, cutting, and hoping that the lack of mock up due to time constraints would not bite me in the ass later.

Of course I made it even harder for myself by adding some tooling... more experienced leatherworkers are probably rolling in their graves since I do it with a scalpel knife, one beveler, a leaf -shaped modeler and no hammer or swivel knife to be seen.

After that it was time to dye the pieces , oil them ( again with shea butter since that's what I have) and then sealing them with resolene.

During the drying times I also made a fabric zippered pouch that is going to sit against the inside of the front piece where my mother can keep the really important stuff save like her wallet or her phone. I glued that to the front piece with leather glue ( I had to go to our storage shed for that because of the fumes) and then got sewing.

Unfortunately I didn't take a lot of pictures of that but trust me that involves a lot of waxed thread and sore fingers.

Aaand this is the result! I hope my mother likes it and now as soon as my leather comes I can get cracking on my dad's birthday gift ( gotta love having parents who have their birthdays six days from each other)

[dipper-in-a-trenchcoat]

The Crew - V

People often wonder how the members of The Crew got there. What drew theses people to this thankless work, to stake their fortune in the shadows. To those not a part of the crew, it seems absurd. To spend hours, days, weeks, months of your life forging a world from wood and metal, glue and screws, lights and sounds, only to bear witness to its destruction by their own hands. To watch from the wings and feel the magnetic pull of the story and every night to have to reject it. To experience all that and to, at the end of it all after having gone out into the night, to return and do it once more seems almost absurd. Or at least absurd to any who are not on The Crew themselves. We, as a species, have always been drawn to liminal spaces. Those places that exist betwixt and in between. It is that same pull towards the nothing that exists between the things that we know that beckon to The Crew. No one seeks out The Crew. No, The Crew finds each of its members where they are. It comes upon them in moments of happenstance and draws them in with that allure of the in between. Those that heed its call are the people who seek a place not bound by constraints. They seek a world of possibilities, where ideas and feeling and emotions can be given life. For the members of The Crew are not strictly creators, but guides. They guide the story through the world, showing it the curves and edges of the space and allowing the story to fill the world in its entirety and thus giving life to both world and story. It is from that liminal space on the borders of the story that The Crew watches. It is on the edges of the world, where the lines blur, that possibility is endless. It is there that The Crew can be everything all at once. They are every wall, every chair, every flash of light, every note of music struck out. They hold up the veil of illusion and guide the story at last to its final resting place in the minds of those who watch. And into their own minds, where the tales are remembered for with fondness for years to come.