#Curved Conveyors

[kids-worldfun]

7 Types Of Conveyor Belt Systems

In the modern day, a conveyor belt works by looping around two or more pulleys, with a continuous band allowing objects to be transported from one location to another. The belt constitutes a closed spiral around the pulleys to keep circling continually. The things being carried are placed on the top side of the belt as it moves. There are often walls along the sides of the belt to prevent objects…

[convelinerollers]

Tapered Curve Conveyor Roller Manufacturer

Tapered Curve Conveyor Roller Conveyor systems are essential for material handling, allowing the smooth and efficient delivery of items in a variety of sectors. Among the many components of a conveyor system, tapered curve conveyor rollers stand out for their ability to enhance performance and streamline operations. These rollers are specially designed to handle curved conveyor paths, reducing wear and improving efficiency. Conveline Roller is a leading tapered curve conveyor roller manufacturer in India, specializing in producing high-quality rollers that meet diverse industrial needs.

Understanding Tapered Curve Conveyor Rollers

A tapered curve conveyor roller is a type of conveyor roller designed with a tapered shape to facilitate smooth movement around curved conveyor sections. Unlike standard straight rollers, tapered rollers allow materials to maintain a consistent flow direction without excessive strain or misalignment. The unique tapering ensures that products move efficiently, minimizing disruptions and reducing friction.

Applications of Tapered Curve Conveyor Rollers

Various industries rely on tapered curve conveyor rollers in India to optimize their material handling processes. Some key sectors include:

Manufacturing: Used in assembly lines to ensure seamless product flow.

Logistics & Warehousing: Facilitates the transportation of packages and goods in distribution centers.

Food Processing: Enhances efficiency in conveyor systems handling food products.

Automotive Industry: Helps in moving vehicle parts through production lines.

E-commerce & Retail: Used in fulfillment centers to speed up order processing.

These rollers are essential for curved conveyor sections where products need to transition smoothly without delays or damage.

Benefits of Using Tapered Curve Conveyor Rollers

Investing in high-quality tapered curve conveyor rollers offers numerous advantages:

Improved Efficiency: Ensures smoother transitions around curves, reducing system slowdowns.

Reduced Equipment Wear: Minimizes stress on conveyor belts and machinery, extending their lifespan.

Enhanced Product Stability: Prevents items from shifting or falling during transportation.

Cost-Effective Solution: Lowers maintenance costs by reducing wear and tear.

Increased Productivity: Supports continuous material flow, reducing handling time and labor costs.

Design and Manufacturing Process

Designing tapered curve conveyor rollers in India requires precision to meet industrial standards. At Conveline Roller, the manufacturing process includes:

Material Selection: High-quality metals and polymers ensure durability.

Precision Engineering: Advanced machinery is used to achieve accurate tapering.

Testing & Quality Control: Each roller undergoes rigorous testing for load capacity, friction, and longevity.

By maintaining strict quality standards, Conveline Roller ensures that its products deliver consistent performance in demanding environments.

Customization Options

Every industry has unique requirements, making customization an essential aspect of conveyor roller manufacturing. Conveline Roller, a trusted tapered curve conveyor roller manufacturer, offers tailored solutions, including:

Size Variations: Different diameters and lengths to fit specific conveyor systems.

Material Choices: Stainless steel, aluminum, and coated rollers for specific applications.

Load Capacity Adjustments: Rollers designed to handle different weight capacities.

Special Coatings: Anti-corrosion and high-friction coatings for enhanced performance.

Custom solutions ensure businesses get the most efficient and cost-effective conveyor rollers for their needs.

Maintenance and Care

Proper maintenance extends the lifespan of tapered curve conveyor rollers and ensures smooth operations. Key maintenance practices include:

Regular Cleaning: Prevents dust and debris buildup that can cause malfunction.

Lubrication: Reduces friction and ensures smooth roller movement.

Periodic Inspections: Identifies wear and tear before they lead to major failures.

Timely Replacements: Replacing damaged rollers prevents system downtime.

Following these best practices helps industries maximize the efficiency of their conveyor systems.

Industry Trends and Innovations

The conveyor industry is evolving with advancements in technology and material sciences. Current trends include:

Smart Conveyor Systems: Integration of sensors and automation for real-time monitoring.

Energy-Efficient Designs: Rollers designed for minimal energy consumption.

Advanced Materials: Lightweight yet durable materials enhancing roller lifespan.

As a leading tapered curve conveyor roller manufacturer in India, Conveline Roller stays ahead of these trends, offering innovative solutions for modern industrial challenges.

Conclusion

Tapered curve conveyor rollers play a crucial role in enhancing material handling efficiency across various industries. Their ability to support smooth transitions around curves reduces operational disruptions, ensuring a seamless workflow. Conveline Roller is a reputable tapered curve conveyor roller manufacturer, providing high-quality, customized solutions to meet industry demands. Investing in these rollers is a smart decision for businesses aiming to optimize their conveyor systems and reduce maintenance costs.

Need a tapered curve conveyor roller at the latest price? Visit our website, contact us at +91-748-602-3925, or email us at info@conveline.com for more information. 

[take-everything-you-can]

NO LOVE LOST

Pt.1 .. Pt.2

What happens when Steve finally meets his match... and what happens when she wants absolutely nothing to do with men?

Oh my god I posted this without thanking my queens wtf @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby , @keeryhours thank you for always helping me through any questions and giving me just the inspiration to go for it always !!

18+ minors DNI

WC: 2.9k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem Reader ( nn- Angel)

TW: mentions of divorce, mentions of food, platonic Stobin, male masturbation.

Rolling over to see the sunrise instead of the slope of curves always made Steve feel like he was in a never-ending rut. It was the same old boring routine, the same cycle day in and day out. Today felt different. Instead of loneliness, when he rolled over, he felt a little twinge of hope. 

Hope that got him out of bed before noon and fed his brain with little what-ifs of what could happen tonight. Why? Well, today was Valentine's Day. now he knew what everyone thought what a fucking sap that this was his favorite holiday but fucking sue him. Simply put he was just a guy who loved love and wanted to give what he had and wanted someone to return the fucking favor, but no one ever got the memo. 

Every year he looked forward to the corny paper valentines that would hit the shelves in Melvald’s, the carnations people could buy for their sweetheart in high school, and now that he had become an adult he adored the way he and Robin had made it a tradition to go out. She would wear those cringy cupid wings and make him wear a headband with an arrow that looked like it had gone in one ear and out the other, but he loved it Loved going along with the bit if it made her smile. 

Tonight he was going to get drunk and take someone home, he had a plan. Buy them a drink, flirt his way into the sheets, and maybe in the morning he could look over and not feel so alone. He would pull out all his best moves, maybe even pull a few of Robin's tried and true that she swore by, anything to not go home by himself. 

Hours had passed and he had started to get a little worried since he had heard nothing from Robin about their plans so he decided to text her. 

As his phone rang Steve was tempted to let it go to voicemail but knowing Robin, he couldn’t do it, she would be beyond pissed. 

“This better be good robs.” he was quiet trying to hear her over the music in the background of wherever she was. 

“It’s not ideal but we can’t go out tonight Stevie. I’m so sorry.”  He tried to be mad he did but the wave of sadness overwhelmed him. “ I know you probably hate me right now.” 

“I don’t hate you, never could.” he cut her off quickly. He could hear the giant sigh of relief she let out. 

“look my cousin, she just got divorced and I told her she could stay with me until she got back on her feet and I promised her a night of movies and good pasta. So would you maybe be into doing that instead?” He thought about it, he didn't need Robin to go out but where was the fun in that? 

“ What movies ?” she laughed and told him to just bring his ass or he was going to be on wine duty. He laughed with her because when was he not on wine duty, he always brought extra bottles knowing if Robin said she had two she only had about half of one.

So he made his way to the store to pick up two extra bottles of the nicest wine he could find and threw a few bars of chocolate into the mix while he was at the register. 

“This all for you ? “ the cashier looked at all he had placed on the little conveyor belt and he nodded his head with a small smile. 

“ Indeed it is.” 

“ Lucky partner, I wish mine would do something like this instead I’ll probably go home to a husband that forgot.” Steve sadly gives his grievances and hands over the amount he owes, thanking the cashier for helping him. 

He felt a small glimmer of happiness that he wasn’t the only one having a shitty holiday, but he was also gutted by the fact that they at least were going to get to go home and curl up next to someone who cared enough to marry them. 

The drive wasn’t a long one but god did it feel like it. Robins' small apartment building had a few stories to it and she just so happened to live on the top floor. As he walked up the stairs and towards her door all he could hear was some low rock music floating through. Knocking Robin instantly swung the door open almost as if their platonic telepathy had notified her of his presence but that was shattered as he was shown the screen of her phone.

 “Why did you sit outside in your car for five minutes? You scared Stevie ?” He furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, 'cause you're just so scary Robs.” She gave him a small tug and pulled him into her apartment and the music he had noticed was coming from the kitchen, her small radio blasting out their parent's favorites, the classics as the station called them. 

“It smells amazing” He heard coming from the now open bathroom door, steam rolling out behind you and he found that you were only in a towel. Surprise on both of your faces as you didn’t expect Steve to be here by the time you got out of the shower and for him, well he didn’t expect you to be so drop-dead gorgeous.  Robin nudges Steve in the stomach with her elbow to get him to shut his mouth since it had slightly dropped open at the sight before him. 

“Steve this is my cousin we just call her Angel.” Steve looked at Robin with an upturned smile thinking about how cute her name was, how true it sounded. 

“It’s not my name but I had a cat named Lucifer growing up and you know Fallen Angel and all that blah blah blah.” She walks away and into Robin's guest room, steve assumes to get dressed, and turning to Robin he pushes her back for the sharp jab she had given to his ribcage. 

“You didn’t tell me she was a walking fucking dream, Buckley.” He hissed out low, scared he would be overheard. 

“Not like you have a chance, Steve, she is one my cousin, and two” she also drops down to a whisper. “ Recently divorced.” 

“So? If anything I’d say my chances are pretty fucking up there.” She just rolls her eyes and tells him she is going to take a quick shower of her own before the movie marathon she has planned out and asks him to finish up making dinner. 

He doesn’t mind, he thinks cooking is calming and honestly it turns his brain off from everything. Sometimes he would make a batch of cookies just to find peace before bed. It was soothing, the process of doing the same thing over and over again and getting the same delicious outcome.

The scent of coconut and rose, a weird mix of the two that worked well hit him, turning to find you standing at the other end of Robin's island. 

“I brought some wine for the movies. Would you like a glass?” He took a bottle out of the fridge and grabbed three glasses out of the cabinet. Pouring one for you and one for himself. He hated warm wine and so did Robin so he just put the bottle back in the fridge until she was ready for one.

“You know your way around robins huh?” You questioned, a subtle shift in your tone and Steve thinking nothing of it answered. 

“Yeah, it's like my second home honestly.” He turned back to stir the pasta Robin had set to simmer and watched as you sipped on your glass slowly.  

“Sorry that I ruined your and Robins's plans she said you guys go out every year.” Steve felt the way his shoulders tensed and shrugged.

 “It's nothing just a little tradition.” You sigh walking over to where Steve is standing next to the stove and taking a spoon to the sauce. Tasting it you look Steve in the eye and tell him the pasta needs some pepper. He takes a different spoon tastes it and agrees that it does need something but not pepper it needs something light. So instead he grabs a lemon and grates a bit of it creating the zest he wants to flourish. 

You roll your eyes walk over to where you had begun this interaction and pick your glass back up. Steve is standing wondering what exactly he could have done to upset you in the mere minutes you were alone with him and he comes up blank.

 “Do we .. is there a problem Angel?” You put a hand on your hip and smile. 

“Nope, no problem I just think it's kinda strange you are all alone on Valentine's Day.”  And he doesn't mean to, he tries to hold it back but something in your tone sounded like every single past partner's accusation of something being fundamentally wrong with him. 

“I could say the same about you but looks like we are both alone.” 

“Who's alone?” Robin pops herself back into the kitchen and grabs some plates from a cupboard behind Steve. 

“We are, all three of us so painfully single.” You say staring at Steve before taking a plate from Robin that she had filled. She laughs but deep inside it hits Steve like a car to a brick wall. Painfully single, god was he that transparent? Did he just give off that vibe? 

“I never said I was single.” You hum taking your plate to the couch and leave him and Robin in the kitchen. She is biting her lip with a sorry look in her eyes. 

“I told her we usually spend Valentine's Day looking for someone to spend breakfast with, hate me all you want. “ 

“Could never “She hands him a plate and sets it down to fill up her glass. Walking over to her living room to find that you had taken his space on the couch, the one he always sat in. The one he could hear best from, see the subtitles from the distance, but you were snuggled in. You had a blanket over your lap and your plate had rested against your chest while you ate and all in his fucking spot.  So he took the other cushion a bit off from where the screen could be read clearly but he could just ask Robin to turn it up a bit more. He could do this … right? Get through one Valentine's Day that Cupid decided not to grace him on. He could turn this thing around. 

He couldn't. Working on the second bottle close to being finished with sixteen candles and a craving for cake himself Steve could confidently say he could not turn this night around. He had tried to get comfortable in his position and he just couldn’t he felt like your eyes were on him throughout the entire movie which led to him sipping his glass a bit more and now he was past the point of tipsy he was drunk, but at least he wasn't the only one. 

Every time he had gotten up to pour himself some more you and Robin would hold your glasses out for a refill and he would more than happily do that, he did, until wine turned into small sips of whatever cheap vodka Robin had in the back of her freezer. When the movie ended he carried Robin to her room since she had passed out in her large chair sometime around the wedding scenes.

Deciding that he would do the best friend thing and tackle the dishes he began running the water and waiting for it to turn warm which always took forever in Robin’s apartment, he swore the heater was starting to go bad but she kept telling him that if it wasn't giving her a cold shower she didn't care. He lathered the dishes setting them on the rack when he was done rinsing them and you had appeared next to him, now dressed in a robe over the comfortable p.js you had been wearing. 

Thinking you would just say something but instead just stood there watching him. 

“Can I assist you with something?” He could hear the small huff of air that left you like you didn’t expect him to acknowledge your existence. 

“Why are you washing our dishes.” He didn’t understand but answered. 

“Well you are a guest and Robin hates a dirty sink and I honestly don’t mind doing it-”

“Well stop, you aren’t getting anything out of doing them so just stop. “ Now he was on a whole different planet because what in the fuck were you talking about. 

“Excuse me? Who said I needed to get anything just to do the dishes? I don't know who made you feel the need to use everything as a transaction but that is not how things go around here. You see it needs to be done, you do it. No, do this and you shall receive . Fuck you ever just done anything to be a nice person?” He could feel the heat in his cheeks with the alcohol flowing through him, his eyes staring at the room like it was on an axis, and his tone starting to rise in the audacity of wanting something out of Robin. An accusation, another from someone who this time didn’t even know him. 

“I’m so-” 

“Save it. I just want to go to bed I suggest you do the same.” 

“ Do not think for one second you are doing this for nothing.” it stops him on his way to his little makeshift bed on the couch. “ You men are all the same, even if it's not for something transactional you still end up on the side of gain Steven.” He was stuck still, not knowing how to even respond. Who had hurt you into thinking all men were the same? Maybe they were in a club with all of his exes, the ones who made him feel the same way. That all women were set on their relationship with him never going farther unless he was to act like he did in high school, unless he took on the persona of his father. He would never so here he was on Valentine's Day alone, drunk and sleeping on his best friend's couch with a person who hated all men not even a hundred feet away. Lovely. 

He didn’t know what time it was when he laid down the numbers on the box beneath Robin's television had been too blurry then, but as the hours went on the numbers seemed to brighten and they now read three a.m. tossing and turning, tired or not being able to find a comfortable position and you, your voice was running through his head over and over, telling him he was only a nice guy for profit. Who the fuck were you to judge him? You didn’t know anything about him and then it sent him on a tangent of well, he didn’t know you either. He could only see what was on the surface, and although the surface was breathtaking he felt the twinge of wanting to know you deep, know the center of what made you, and change your perspective on men, or at least on him. 

The longer he thought about you the harder it was to stray away from the thoughts of your face and the way your body looked in that towel. The water dripped from your hair before you had put it up, letting the droplets fall in between-.

Alright, he had to stop, he couldn't think of you that way, or could he? He listened out to see if he heard anything but all he heard was the ice dumping from the fridge and soft snores coming from down the hall. Was he really about to do this? 

His dick answered for him, half hard at the thought of just having you drop the towel was all he needed. He let his hand wander under the thin blanket that he had covering himself. Gripping his cock through his boxers and felt the weight of it and squeezed letting it fill out before he slipped his hand beneath the waistband. He started stroking himself wishing it was your mouth on him and you had dropped to your knees in front of him, inviting him in with the warmth. Letting the pre he had slide down his shaft with some help but it just wasn’t enough. He brought his hand up to his mouth and spit in it imagining that it was you who had provided and he let his fist wrap around the length again. The slick wet sounds worked him up and he took and pushed his boxers out of the way with his other hand. Letting his hips buck into the pull of his dick, hissing out at the feeling of his release approaching fast. 

“Need a hand?” 

[w00dw1tch]

Tips for Visualization

@neverpathia responded to my posts asking for questions months ago, so we're gonna start there. I'm so sorry it took me this long!

It's important to note that some people can't visualize at all. It's called aphantasia, and it's the inability to form mental images. So if you've tried and tried but aren't seeing anything in your imagination, don't be discouraged. It's completely normal and in no way impacts your ability to do successful spell work. People with aphantasia usually benefit from describing the process to themselves out loud.

And that brings me to my biggest tip: Say it aloud.

I've always had trouble focusing. I would sit and try to force images in my head, but I couldn't hold onto them. Talking myself through energy and spell work has been a game changer. I've found it helps you hold onto the energy you're working with too.

Let distractions pass.

These are technically meditation techniques but I use them in visualization all the time. They help keep you focused and strengthen that skill.

The Park Bench: I got this from a youtuber years ago but can't for the life of my find them now. I've adapted it slightly.

You're sitting on a bench working on the task at hand. In front of you is a path where people and sometimes animals are passing. These are thoughts and distractions unrelated to the task. As they pass, don't force yourself to ignore them. Doing so will cause those thoughts to nag at you. Acknowledge them and allow them to pass by.

TVs on Conveyor Belts: This technique is from HearthWitch on YouTube. I'm going to link the video here, I truly cannot recommend her channel enough.

It's a similar premise to the park bench, except its TVs on conveyor belts. There are hundreds of them, stretching as far back as you can see. I like to imagine there's a screen in front of me that shows the task at hand. Now TVs are going to be passing in the background, and sometimes a big one will even jump in front of your main screen. It's okay that it happens. What's important is that you don't jam the conveyor belt. Acknowledge and let those screens pass you by. This isn't always easy, but with practice it's very helpful.

Lighting and Ambiance

Matt Auryn talks about the connection between dim lighting and the activation of our third eye or the pineal gland in our brain in his book Psychic Witch. Practicing meditation or visualization in dim lighting often has better results and is especially helpful for me. I like candle light but anything works and a flickering candle can be more distracting then helpful.

A light incense can be very calming as well as some meditation music. Typically people go with light instrumental music for minimal distraction. But I do know a few people who find hard metal more helpful. Music in general can help set the mood and drown out other sounds in a busy place.

Practice!

Visualization is a skill. You will have days where you're great at it, and days where it feels way harder. There will be lots of learning curves but I promise the more you practice, the easier it gets.

My favorite practice exercise is The Disk Method. I learned this from HearthWitch too, though I know she got it from somewhere else. I'm going to add the transcription as I have it in my own book of shadows, but please show this Youtuber some love. My practice wouldn't be where it is without her content.

The Disk - Master one stage before moving onto the next one. Practice all the steps first with your eyes closed, then with them open.

There’s a flat red disk floating in front of you. It has a matte coating and is roughly the size of a hockey puck. Once you can see the disk, try touching it to make it spin or just imagining it spinning. Rotate it in all different directions, see how it looks from different angles and how the light plays off it.

The disk becomes a sphere. It's now a red ball with the same matte finish. Notice how the light reflects off it differently now. Spin it around. Squish it if you want.

The ball becomes very, very shiny. How does the light play off it now? Things in the room might be reflected on its surface. What can you see?

Now, it’s a shiny red apple. It has a stem, and a tiny leaf. Notice all of the imperfections on the apple. You can see the discolorations, dimples, maybe a spot or two. See the edging of the leaf and the wood on the stem. Spin it and see how the apple moves, how the imperfections change, and the leaf flutters. If you want, you can pluck the leaf or twist off the stem.

The apple breaks into slices. Now, you can see the inside, the white, the core, and the seeds. Pick up or draw a piece towards you. View it from all angles. You see the apple and if it was really there. You can put it back together, rearrange it, fix it, and watch it fall apart again.

It’s now apple juice inside a glass. Move the glass around and see how the juice moves inside it. Draw it close and smell it, take a sip, taste it, and feel the sensation just like you were drinking a real glass of apple juice.

Now you can do this kind of practice with more than just apples. In Kelden's book The Crooked Path, he describes a great candle visualization. It's all about taking an object or experience and going through the sensations of it. Visualization in witchcraft is more than just seeing. Describe what you can see, feel, smell, etc.

Wow this was a long one. It's pretty late here so hopefully this is all coherent. Please share any techniques or tips I missed!

[entouragestories]

Santa’s Toy Factory

It was a snowy Christmas Eve, and the downtown streets were alive with glittering lights and bustling holiday shoppers. Among them was Jake, a slim, lithe guy whose delicate features and playful confidence turned heads wherever he went. Jake had always been the quintessential twink—lean, energetic, and effortlessly charming. Tonight, he was making his way home from the gym, his cropped hoodie and short shorts showing off his toned frame, when he noticed something unusual.

Nestled between two old storefronts was a pop-up shop he swore hadn’t been there the day before. A festive sign above the door read: “Santa’s Toy Factory” in bold, glittering letters. The windows were frosted, but colorful lights danced within, and faint, cheerful jingles played in the background. Jake smirked, feeling an odd mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Probably some cheesy holiday gimmick,” he muttered, but something about it drew him in.

Pushing the door open, Jake was greeted by a wave of warm air scented with peppermint and cinnamon. Inside, the shop was like a Christmas wonderland: shelves lined with toys, sparkling garlands, and mannequins dressed as elves. But the place was empty, eerily so.

“Hello?” Jake called out, his high, melodic voice echoing. No response. Just as he turned to leave, a door at the back of the shop creaked open, revealing a glowing, candy-cane-striped hallway.

“Alright, let’s see what’s back there,” Jake said to himself, his gym bag slung over one shoulder. He stepped into the hallway, the sound of his sneakers muffled by the plush red carpet. At the end of the corridor was a large room filled with conveyor belts and machinery that looked straight out of a whimsical factory. Brightly wrapped presents moved along the belts, disappearing into chutes.

“Guess Santa’s hiring elves on a budget this year,” Jake joked, chuckling. But before he could explore further, the door slammed shut behind him.

“What the—” He turned, but the door had vanished, replaced by a solid wall. Panic flared briefly before a mechanical arm shot out from the ceiling, grabbing his wrist.

“Hey! Let go!” Jake yelped, struggling against the surprisingly strong grip. More arms emerged, securing his limbs and lifting him onto one of the conveyor belts. His gym bag fell to the floor as he was pinned flat on his back.

“This isn’t funny! Let me go!” he shouted, but the factory ignored his protests. The conveyor belt began to move, carrying him toward a series of machines. His hoodie and shorts were quickly shredded away by precision lasers, leaving him in nothing but his bright pink briefs. Then, even those disintegrated into a puff of smoke, leaving him completely naked.

Jake thrashed, his lithe, toned body glistening under the bright lights. “What the hell is this?” he whimpered. But before he could struggle further, a spray of warm, glossy red latex paint hit his chest.

The paint was oddly soothing as it spread across his skin, coating him from neck to toe in a gleaming, skintight Santa outfit. The latex hugged his slight frame perfectly, but as the conveyor carried him forward, his body began to change. His narrow hips flared slightly, his thighs filling out to become shapely and firm. His abs, while lean, gained subtle definition, and his arms softened slightly but retained their delicate tone. His chest developed a slight curve, accentuating his trim, hourglass silhouette.

Jake groaned as his reflection warped in the chrome machinery. His face tingled as his sharp jawline softened ever so slightly, giving him a youthful yet striking allure. His cheeks flushed, and a dusting of pink settled on them permanently, making his skin appear smooth and flawless. His lips became fuller, plump, and inviting, while his bright blue eyes sparkled with mischievous energy.

As he moved further down the conveyor, more changes occurred. Black latex fingerless gloves slid onto his hands, and a matching harness with silver accents materialized across his chest, tightening snugly. Gleaming white fluff trimmed the edges of his outfit—from the low neckline of his red latex top to the short, flared Santa skirt that barely covered his rounded, pert backside. Knee-high black latex boots appeared on his feet, the chunky heels clicking on the conveyor as he shifted.

Jake gasped as a black choker appeared around his neck, adorned with a small silver bell that jingled softly. A Santa hat, tipped jauntily, rested atop his now snowy-white hair, styled in soft waves. The transformation wasn’t just physical, though; Jake’s mind filled with a bubbly confidence and a mischievous, flirtatious charm.

“Ho, ho, ho…” Jake purred, his voice high and sultry. His hands ran over his latex-clad body, the material squeaking slightly. “Santa’s never looked this good.”

The conveyor belt stopped, and the mechanical arms released him. Jake hopped down, the heels of his boots clicking on the polished floor. A door opened, revealing a room filled with twinkling lights and an inviting lounge area. A group of men, their eyes wide and cheeks flushed, stood waiting. They were dressed as elves, their outfits tight and barely covering their toned bodies. Jake grinned wickedly as he sashayed toward them, his hips swaying.

“Alright, boys,” he said, his voice a teasing sing-song. “Who’s ready to sit on Santa’s lap?”

The pop-up shop, as it turned out, wasn’t a toy store at all. It was Santa’s secret way of giving back to the queer community, transforming deserving souls into their most authentic, confident selves. And Jake? He was no longer the playful twink who had wandered in off the street. He was now Santa’s mischievous latex darling, ready to spread a very special kind of Christmas magic.

[genericpuff]

This is stupid, but you know those new LO hoodies the Webtoon shop has? I know the font they're using. It's Eckmannpsych which is an Adobe font.

That's not the stupid part though. The dumb part is the capital H and G in the Eckmannpsych font do not match what is on the hoodies, which would obviously be on the hoodies that have Hera or Goddess on them. So, Rachel looks to have taken the time to hand draw her own H and G to match the font style for those hoodies but did not take any time to make new, better art for the merch, but instead reused ugly panels from the comic. Talk about a strange look into her priorities. She doesn't like how the G and H look on a font? She will remake those to fit what she wants. Rachel when the assignment gives her the chance to make specialized, better designs for those same merch? She can't be bothered to even try. WTF!

for the love of god-

I'm assuming and hoping they had the commercial rights to that font LMAOO But it did kind of make me go 🤨 because while I didn't know the font EXACTLY off the top of my head it still felt... weirdly out of place for something like LO? Why are these hoodies being stylized like they're from Austin Powers LOL

On another note tho, the LO merch is just like... disappointing in how bad it is for what's supposed to be WT's #1 series, which is, btw, a series with so much unique stylization that it shouldn't even be this hard to make merch for it! it just feels very "first attempt at redbubble merch", but unlike genuine first attempts at making merch (which is obviously a learning curve that I wouldn't judge anyone for being new to) this is a company that's sunk shitloads of money into LO so I don't know why they can't get better merch made?? so much of it is just the default drawings taken and slapped onto a tote bag or t-shirt, which like, yeah cool fine you're using art that's recognizable and considering the art is already made, it stands to reason that they should use it for more than just the comic. It's just disappointing to see how lazy it often is and how little effort is put into translating it onto a t-shirt/tote bag/etc. like we can't even have ONE exclusive t-shirt with a unique design that isn't just poorly copy pasted from the comic?

Case in point, those t-shirts that Rachel was advertising a while ago that were actually straight up falsely advertised. I can't find the post about it on my Tumblr (I'm pretty sure I talked about it here) so here's the IG story rundown I did on it ages ago:

Again I'd really like to have benefit of the doubt here that Rachel isn't the one making these designs, usually that's not how the merchandising process goes in these types of deals, so I'm not gonna point the finger at her. But it's just so odd to me that it happened in the first place. And this goes for a lot of LO's merch, so much of it feels cheaply made and rushed off a conveyor belt for the point of making money without much expense. Which yeah, that's a business model for sure, the goal is to profit, but like this?

You can't even argue that it's like people criticizing LO the comic because like, as much as I'll justify what I spend my time doing here in my free time, it's true that at the end of the day I don't have to pay for LO, so really the only thing I'm doing is inflicting psychic damage to myself, it's not like my actual money is on the line LMAO That's why I stopped paying for LO ages ago and only do it when I have a specific episode I need to review (such as the midseason hiatus review series I did). At the very least, if I really want to keep reading LO but don't want to pay for it, I can just avoid FastPassing it and read it for free so I can save the coins for other series I'd rather read. The Webtoons' FP system is very fair that way.

But this is merch explicitly made to generate revenue. It is a product, front to back. You can vote with your money by not buying the thing you don't like, absolutely, but the fact that it's this poorly to begin with is just so indicative of Webtoons' business practices and so shitty for the people who genuinely enjoy this comic and are being advertised and sold shoddy merchandise that doesn't even come looking the same way it's advertised. It's really not a good look for Webtoons, Rachel, or LO that this is what they're selling to people.

Especially for what they're charging, good lord-

Like, okay, they're hoodies and they're gonna be expensive to print and ship so the higher overhead cost makes sense, but jesus christ, with the kind of merch Webtoons has already given the stamp of approval on, would it even show up in decent condition? How bright are those colors gonna be? Are they gonna strip off as soon as I throw it in the wash? I'm half-tempted to buy a hoodie for myself just to do a review on it but I can't justify dropping $75 CAD on a hoodie that only has art on the back. Maybe it's just me living in the hellish lands of Canada where we play with toy money that's the problem, but it's just not a gamble I wanna take LOL If I bought one it would probably be the Hecate or Hermes ones because they're the only ones that are at least somewhat legible and have decent character art that isn't a character looking like they need to poop LMAO

(these are literally the two worst drawings they could have chosen of these two i stg lol the only thing that would have made this worse/funnier is if it was Handsome Hades and Persephone Kidnapping a Baby LMAO)

It has me worried about what the LO figures are gonna look like when they release. Are they gonna have some creative liberty with making them chibi-fied (like a Nendoroid?) or are they gonna try and replicate the art style exactly and wind up making literal blow-up sex doll Persephone? 😭

NGL, if the figures are done well enough and don't cost an arm and a leg, I might consider buying one just for the shelf collection, but again, it depends. If Webtoons released a tarot deck with really good panels from LO (like the Tower 4 scene or Persephone sitting on the rooftop with her comb or Eros flying down into the Mortal Realm) I would buy the shit out of that. I would even just take the Major Arcana if 78 cards was too much to ask :'0 I'm not against Webtoons/Rachel trying to profit off LO merch at all, I just wish it was BETTER- (╥﹏╥)

[royal-chandler]

Hi! For the ficlet prompt, my three words are:

wine, tremble, lazy

🩷

Thank you for the prompt! I hope this is to your liking! ♥️

---

In March, they steal away to Paris. 

That’s the romantic narration of it, anyway. In reality, Alex had given the law firm months' notice of his plans to use up his vacation time on his and Henry’s birthdays and then worked practically non-stop until the day of their flight, weekends included. Henry’s first draft of his novel was sent to his editor via email while their plane smoked on the tarmac, also having predominantly spent the majority of the lead-up to their hop across the Atlantic working heavily, splitting his time between his office and the youth shelter. 

They mimed passing ships in the night during those closing weeks—college-try handjobs in their morning showers, a conveyor belt of a la carte lunches and takeout dinners, and catch-up conversations that sped into snores under their blankets, against the kitchen island, and in front of the muted tv.  

At one embarrassingly low point, Alex had sluggishly hiked the steps of the brownstone, lost a battle with his set of keys, and called Henry to let him in because something was wrong with the lock. Stepping outside of the neighboring door, phone still pressed to his ear, Henry had laughed that their locks were actually just fine. 

All worth it, Alex decides, living to tell the tale and look over the cinematic heart of the city—the crowd of rooftops and warm shades of gold dotted from the streetlamps all the way to the Eiffel Tower—from his seat on their terrace as music spills from the hotel room.

A deviation from restaurant reservations and room service and at Henry’s insistence, it’s a Parisian picnic tonight. Alex doesn’t know how or when Henry had gotten it done, now that they’re in each other's pockets again but it’s a postcard setting. The round table is draped with the classic checkered cloth and topped with candles and a decanter of wine, and there’s an assortment of fresh breads, cheeses, fruits, and meats—including the chicken mousse that the Texan in Alex really hadn't wanted to like but is shamefully into.

He’s spreading it thick onto another pinch of bread when Henry comments, amused, “We’ll need to make some extra room in your suitcase to accommodate bringing a case of that back home.”

“Ugh yes,” Alex agrees, popping the bread in his mouth. Once he’s swallowed, he tacks on, “But we’ll have to hide it deep in our cabinets. Like not easily visible to our guests. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

“Think you're safe there,” Henry replies, rolling his eyes but his tone rings nothing less than charmed. “I truly doubt that anyone aside from you has ever uttered the words ‘a meat has no validity unless you can throw barbecue sauce on it.’”

“Okay, I’ll grant you maybe not in that exact syntax but the sentiment is out there. Trust me,” Alex insists before a sip of the wine he also wants to smuggle back to the States. 

Every single thing Henry has picked out for the night has been divine but Alex is most appreciative of the picture across from him. Henry is an academic stunner in his sweater, a soft earthy green that he fills out so perfectly with his broad shoulders and curved arms it’ll almost be a travesty when Alex hauls it off of him later. His hair is grown out and dark, partially swept back and behind an ear that’s now pierced with a circle of silver. Best of everything fucking wonderful, there's pretty crescent moons around Henry's mouth that rival the full one hanging above them.

“Whatever you say, love,” Henry says with his grin after waiting out Alex’s intake of him, wise to Alex as always.

“Whatever you say, love,” Alex parrots back, a second nature refrain. “Ooh speaking of, tomorrow’s your day, baby. Was there anything you had in mind?”

There’s a poignant change in Henry’s expression, his mouth so ready-set-go that Alex expects him to name drop another book store or museum with specific pursuits for wherever they go, to unburden an impassioned lecture on a literary figure or regale Alex with the lengthy history behind a painting they have to see and study. 

What Alex doesn’t expect is for Henry to come to his side and take a careful knee, to pull a square jewelry box from its hiding place in Henry’s pants pocket and for Henry’s hand to slightly tremble as it flips the box open before holding it out.

Alex doesn’t expect the gorgeous band of gold that shines in candle light and rings around his heart, claiming it.

“I’d love to enjoy the entire day with my fiancé if he would abide?” Henry offers simply.

“Yes,” Alex says, sure and within so slim a breath, his answer is merely a punctuation on Henry’s question.

Alex makes surprise wait until the ring has slipped on his finger, until he’s kissed Henry with the intent to do so for the rest of his life, until he’s got Henry underneath him and around him in their bed—lazy with love and then impatient with it. There, Alex will let surprise meet and then yield to the knowledge that tomorrow he’ll have a proposal of his own.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

I think I sent you a similar ask a few months ago but here I am, back with some mildly new info! I do the occasional production gig in NYC but have actor friends who get consistent work (closest I got to being an actor was background on Joker 2 👍) and basically, things are still very weird in Hollywood. They have been since covid, with everyone anticipating the strikes and fewer projects being greenlit, then the actual strikes, and now who knows what will happen after the fires. I know it’s not a 1:1 comparison, but the film/tv acting scene in the UK tends to follow the same curves.

I would be surprised if Ewan’s agent well all in on one role without confirmation—could certainly happen, but it sounds like they’ve been in the business a while, and would likely have still encouraged him to go out for other things while that was up in the air. Even if you’re pinned (asked to hold the dates for shooting and not take other jobs during that time) a lot of agents will still have you audition for stuff that overlaps just in case. Only one person gets the role, and business wise it’s just smarter to play the field, so to speak!

But it could also have been he was committed to a project that just didn’t get off the ground, so it was never announced. A lot of things are being scaled back and cancelled, because a lot of studios are losing money on just insane levels. And as much as I hope other countries will divest from the states (seriously, save yourselves) whatever happens with the economy here is gonna be felt there.

Not to make it all doomerism! Things are still being greenlit, and HOTD is still huge. Ewan will also likely be auditioning during season 3 filming- Assuming Aemond dies in, I would bet he has something new announced very soon after the season ends!

I would say modern fandom is also at the root of people’s impatience to see Ewan cast in something new. Not to sound like an old woman giving it the “back in my day” spiel, but before the rise of TikTok, Instagram, etc. fandoms moved a lot slower, and it wasn’t a problem to wait a couple of years between projects to see your faves on screen again.

With the increase of popularity of streaming services dropping entire series at once and people needing to constantly consume, be entertained and then move on, people perhaps have unrealistic expectations.

Ewan still has an entire filmography you can go back and watch. Existing pictures of him aren’t going to wear out from being looked at too much. It simply isn’t reasonable to expect a continuous conveyor belt of new content. And if you feel restless, why not create while you wait? I appreciate fan fiction is not for everyone, but there are other mediums to explore; gif making, video edits, fan art, etc.

Slow your roll and just enjoy being part of the community. You aren’t stopping to appreciate what’s already there if you’re constantly seeking out the newest thing.

[quasarlasar]

IT'S MID-OCEAN RIDGE BASALTIN' TIME

After getting too many episodic-tremor-and-slip stomach rumbles, Cascadia goes absolutely feral and tries to eat/subduct the Juan de Fuca Ridge. The words in the last panel are courtesy of @iamthepulta. The line gets even sillier when you take into consideration that I imagine Cascadia to have an Austrian accent.

The Cascadia subduction zone is nowhere near doing this IRL, but it (or its precursor) did subduct part of the Farallon-Pacific Ridge in the past. I have drawn Cascadia grabbing Farallon-Pacific by the throat and dragging her into his trench, and in this comic he's doing it to the Juan de Fuca Ridge, so I guess he just uses chokeholds on ridges he wants to subduct. The Farallon-Pacific Ridge did not get completely subducted, with large portions of her ending up being strewn over the continent. And of course Cascadia’s southern portions got replaced by the San Andreas Fault in the process.

I imagine Cascadia’s true mouth is not the one he has on his face but the trench on his underside, and the big flaming maw on the right represents that in cross section. I have drawn the Juan de Fuca Plate as subducting at a much steeper angle than it actually is (it actually is almost horizontal) for dramatic effect.

Because my IRL friends and family did not get this comic at all, I’m going to answer their questions below.

“Why do the faults look like snakes??!”

Faults are drawn on maps as curved lines, so sticking a face on one end makes them look snakelike. It is also the case that faults extend vertically under the ground as roughly planar regions of damaged rock, so in a way they’re kind of like rock snakes that are very flattened from side to side. More like rock ribbon eels than most snakes lol.

“Why is Cascadia dressed like a sailor???”

In the setting with the natural disaster characters, the subduction zones are the officer class of Gaia’s military who conquer oceanic plates and attach their mountains to the continents they fight for (yes this means Gaia fights herself…but she also created the Siberian Traps on a whim one day so she’s not the most sane planet/goddess). So Cascadia is kinda like a naval officer, with his tsunamis, volcanoes etc being his “soldiers”. His pipe is specifically inspired by Douglas MacArthur. It just seemed to fit with his naval officer theme, and it seems appropriate for a guy who makes volcanoes to be puffing ashes all the time.

“Why is Cascadia super buff???”

His design is based on the general design of the thrust fault characters. Thrust faults in maps are typically drawn as lines with teeth pointing in the direction of the dip of the fault:

So the thrust fault avatars kind of look like snakes with back spikes. Subduction zones are drawn similarly in maps, but they’re broader in extent and create more powerful earthquakes (they’re called “mega-thrusts”) so Cascadia looks like a bigger and really buff thrust fault avatar.

Depending on his orientation, the back spines are revealed to actually be his volcanic arc as shown here:

“Who is the other snake guy???”

That is the Juan de Fuca Ridge. I have drawn him/her/them like how mid-ocean ridges are drawn on maps, as rift segments offset jaggedly from each other by transform faults (which I haven’t drawn faces on to not clutter up the design too much). He/she/they wears a beret because they’re like an artist whose canvas is new ocean floors.

“What are those little snake/brown things?”

The little snakes are smaller faults that are in the ocean crust of the Juan de Fuca plate. The brown guys are seamounts. They’re all running as fast as they can to avoid being conveyor-belted into hell.

“Why is subduction portrayed as being eaten by Cascadia?”

There is a popular metaphor of subduction zones as factories being fed oceanic lithosphere, processing it into new substances and extracting volatiles from it, and then expelling the disintegrated waste products into the core-mantle boundary. Since Cascadia is alive in this setting and is himself the factory, this implies he is eating oceanic plates and melting/digesting/processing them in his stomach and intestines before pooping the remnants out into the core-mantle boundary lol.

(Though oddly enough I also depict him as having a literal factory for making new rocks inside of him that he runs by projecting an avatar inside himself. It’s weird.)

“How is a subduction zone even a character??? That’s just kind of a place/region!”

Personified countries are a whole genre so why not plate boundaries lol?

[missamyrisa2]

How did you and your crew at the Tickle Factory celebrate Easter?

(oh gooosh I got carried away with this~~~)

An adult easter egg hunt ~ how silly, yet all the same you're all too happy to indulge. The emerald of the gentle grassy hills sparkles with the remnants of the morning dew, and your legs are carrying you faster than possibly ever before. No one is leaving this contest with a basket full of eggs, this much was made clear. Only the luckiest few would be finding a single egg, after which they were to be immediately rewarded.

A stunning royal blue egg sits high in the tree. Your jump won't reach it, and by the time you start to scale the trunk a much more limber player has snatched it. She waves at you with an outstanding smugness before being whisked off by a floating platform to claim her winnings. You catch a glimpse of brilliant puce under a shrub, and so do three others. With a deafening clunk you all collide with one another, allowing a clumsy grungy guy to stumble over and claim the egg though not before nearly dropping it right into your open hand.

With another winner floating off, your competitors struggle and shove to search for what they think is the last prize. You let them run off because you've already spotted it. Glinting in the fountain, obscured by the endless coins is the silver egg. You casually walk towards the bubbling water acting as though you're looking in other directions should anyone spot you. And with a nervous sudden lunge, the prize is yours. The sparkling shape rolls in your palm with a heft, and you feel your stomach tremble when the platform is suddenly under your feet.

You hear protests and curses as they see you float away ~ and when you arrive into the opening bay doors of the building you find yourself bouncing on your toes, not thinking twice about the peculiar sounds of joy emanating from nearby rooms. The prize chamber flares to life with chunks and clangs.

"Please present token for prize verification." A robotic voice both gentle and stern prompts you, a panel sliding out eagerly awaiting your egg. Upon receiving the glittery treasure, the room shifts and becomes increasingly celebratory & pastel, with balloons inflating all around and sparkling bursts of glitter firing from cannons in all directions. A screen slides out from the wall and displays a smirking face, worn by a tall feminine figure with long blonde hair wearing an elegant floral dress cinched by a thick black belt under a long black cardigan. Atop her head are two fluffy white bunny ears which gently flop as she speaks.

"Congratulations, winner! You've beaten the odds and you're quite adorable. You'll make quite the prize~" she remarks, holding fingers to her face in a delicate yet taunting expression.

As the silly celebration sounds and music flare, the floor opens into a conveyor and moves so suddenly you roll across its surface, tumbled down a decline. All the pastel and high spirit gives way to your trek into what appears to be a factory. Other conveyors run across the giant facility, some carrying other people in varying states of undress and elegant outfits. Rooms filled with busy machinery are seen in the distance. Sounds of buzzing and humming and clanking mix with laughs, giggles, gasps, and moans.

You're moving faster and faster, barely able to keep up with the surreal imagery. You recognize one fellow egg winner in a far room, strapped into some apparatus as a spider-like machine descends on them. And then all goes dark, your destination rapidly approaching towards the downward slide and right into the waiting machine hands.

Two large gloved robotic hands catch you and immediately start handling and tossing you around. They are joined by more, sliding out of the walls in this tiled room. Each wiggly hand gleefully begins relieving you of clothing as they chase you towards a waiting clamp. The giant curved metal apparatus opens welcomingly, the robotic hands working efficiently to tug away your shirt and pull your pants down, their fingers sneaking in to poke and stroke your skin in specific spots to make you twist and turn to their design. And as your undergarments are snatched and you become naked sooner than expected, the mechanical hands take to rubbing and massaging your body, poking at your tush to make you move towards your next destination~

As you stumble closer to escape the grabby hands, the clamp catches and closes around your midsection. With a firm grasp across your belly it seals and expands above and below, now looking like a shiny corset from your lower ribs to hips. The soft padding trembles and wiggles as you are heaved upwards and dragged further into the facility. Pulling you through a clear tube, the clamp and its lower body whiz speedily but pausing regularly so scanners can fire tingly beams over your exposed upper and lower body parts.

At last you are deposited into the next chamber, a pristine room with a curious oval shape. With a surge of energy, an apparatus drops from above and snatches your wrists into rubber cuffs, holding you stretched up. A door slides open and is filled with shining silver. The worker regards you with a friendly wave and is followed by a whole line of more. The crew files in one after another, decked out in their silver jumpsuits and reflective visor helmets. They exchange pleasantries with one another, look at various notes on display panels, and regard your naked wiggling form as one would an unfinished workshop project.

One of the team produces the silver egg, and places it on a pedestal. "Color verified. Begin filling procedure." The machinery hums to life and scans your prize before clicking and whirling, opening a series of circular ports across its shiny surface. Team member step forth and attach tubes from their equipment. You are helpless to watch and theorize what comes next as the tubes fill with sparkling silver coloring. "Fill complete. Commence colorization." In unison, they detach and point their gear towards you, adjusting the nozzles.

You start to panic at their stride, you tell them to stop but they can't be deterred from their job. Your body is suddenly alight with ticklish sensation feeling the mist of their weaponry firing with an impossibly teasy buzzy sound. The giggles slip your lips seeing the silvery color coating your skin. Every drop of the mist clings to your skin and gives it an irresistible tingle as if a hundred tiny pixies were earnestly drawing their tiny fingers around in circles. Your sides are trembling madly at the generous coating of the silver glitter but this is soon forgotten when a nozzle begins carefully firing into your armpit starting at the outer rim and gradually working inward.

Your legs become nothing but quivers when a pair start spraying up and down, coating your thighs and lower legs before going around and covering from behind your knees up to your clenched butt. The giggles and laughs and occasional moans from all this soft slightly wet attention on your body is further accented when you sense a nozzle being gently touched to your bouncing navel. You can't see their face through the visor but you would guarantee there was a wicked smile inside as they slowly pulled their trigger and filled your bellybutton with the tingly tickly paint. Glittery sparkles fly outward from the excessive treatment given to your giggle button.

Your laughs fill the room but their equipment matches in volume as more arrive to work their equipment on your increasingly ticklish and silvery body. A pair work your arms, coating from biceps up, stepping around as you squirm and thrash to make sure to cover it all. The machinery assists, humming down to brace your head and allow a smaller sprayer to cover your neck. Two clamps slide out to ensnare your ankles and lift your body so that your feet can be thoroughly coated.

And last but not least~ and with a tinglyyy scan, a new machine glides down and takes aim with tiny detail brushes and small nozzles to begin merrily working first on your royal chest buttons, carefully spraying and spreading the tickle sparkle paint. Working through your moans and gigglegasps, the machine hovers down and attaches clamps to your thighs to keep you from closing them so it can work away. Tiny brushes extend and wiggle and twist from your inner thighs towards your most royal area painting it up in the same tingly silvery color. And at the same time, secondary machines dip down and start working your ears as an irritatingly distracting paintjob to join the attention down below.

Their work done, the works stand back, some of them pausing to admire their handiwork with hands on waists. The machinery retracts and gives way to that spidery contraption which begins sliding out from one side. Its endless arms extend and clank into place, taking aim at your glittery shiny tingly body. Each arm rears back and surges with power, trembling and opening to begin shooting puffs of air at your body.

"Begin sealing process."

Each caress of compressed air is a kiss of tickly attention on your sparkly skin. The machine works to rapid dry your skin and seal the coating in place with excessive teasing puffs. They aim all around your body, firing their puffs at your armpits, your ears, neck, two at your chest, one at your navel, a whole line down your ribs to your hips and a trio working your extremely ticklish silvery royal zone.

Barely giving you time to react to this overload of sensation and how your skin is so shimmering and feels so tickled, the cuffs open and you are dropped through an opening in the floor. Working through yet another tube you catch a glimpse of what looks like the status board from a carwash ~ and deduce it is tracking your place in this whole affair. With a ping, the lights on "Clear Gloss" ignite.

You scramble on the tube trying to get away, not wanting to see what a clear gloss will entail but the rollers are moving you quickly with no chance at escape - particularly as the next turn of the tube is thick with spinning buffer brushes. You are drawn into the tube of fluff with the sound of rising machinery, their whirling soft surface buffing along your painted skin with endless soft teasing strokes. No part of your body is able to escape as you roll and twist and turn and hysterically laugh, the spinning brushes transferring their shining gloss to your body which exits the tube bearing a sheen through the glittery paint.

Similar tubes are depositing your competitors at the same time. The sassy girl is glowing a deep shade of blue, her sass long lost to the endless giggles she struggles with. The very air is tickling her wiggly body and she spins about on the platform. The guy in passionate puce fares no better, trying desperately not to move as he becomes more visibly aroused through his struggling snickermoans.

The open room below is busy with heavy machinery, but your curious glance down is interrupted by the arrival of a new machine which extends three clamps. You move to run but your body is so tingly from the painting and buffing that every step is ticklish agony as if you were moving through a wall of feathers. The silver clamps seal over each of your waists and begin humming and buzzing. The gentle electric current sends tingles all around your midsection, the sensation of something being attached makes you scream with giggles.

With an uncaring toss, the machine lifts all three of you over and sends you flying below as the clamps disengage. Below, a gigantic easter basket is waiting to receive and looks to be filled with a pristine white fluff. You land with a gentle bounce, your colleagues landing nearby. Glancing down, you all notice that the machine has put a black leather-like belt on each of you, all bearing a shiny oversized flower buckle.

"Aww, look at my eggies~!!" That voice returns as the boss of this place floats around on her platform, arms folded in a superior smirk. "This is my favorite basket yet~" she remarks, watching in delight as you all now begin to struggle and giggle and writhe across the fluffy interior of the pastel basket. The silky friction of the soft interior against your painted buffed skin, further enhanced by the hum of the tease belts has you all rolling in your giggles ~ positively screaming when you're unlucky enough to bump one another. Every attempt to stop and hold still lasts moments ~ the boss cooing down from above at your plight ~ before the tickles get through and you're again a helpless mess. The guy loses control and quickly ticklegasms, but his treatment only continues after a deft machine sweeps into clean him up and push him right back into the fluff. The girl now has a cleaner hovering by incessantly as she can't stop ticklegasming.

You prove to be a harder nut to crack, holding your sounds and moans. This only further entices the boss as she floats down and watches you. "Oooh I have a hard boiled eggyyyyy~" she pulls her fluffy ear headband down and starts gliding it along your belly and sides. "Come on now eggy, crack for meee~" she taunts. "You know you wannnaaaa~" and though you give a good fight, it is absolutely hopeless when she reaches down to tap the flower buckle and increase the sensitivity treatment. With hum and buzz joining your burst of giggles and moans, she grins and floats back watching lovingly as you lose control and collapse into the fluff ~ resigning yourself as the silvery glittery prize on this easter hunt.

[hidefdoritos]

Project Hiatus: Vest

I've had this vest for maybe a year now. I've put some good energy into it so far: unpicking and hand-stitching the zipper so it lays flat, removing the back waist elastic so it fits, putting the "Renewable energy? I'm a big fan!" backpatch on, a few collar studs, shoulder buckles, etc.

I've never loved the way the hem sits. It's just higher in the back. Every time I move, it feels like I'm showing off all my stretch marks on the spot where a tramp stamp would be if I were a cooler person. Also, whatever shirt I'm wearing sticks straight out from under it. You can see the edge of my dino skeleton sweater in the pic.

I decided I was gonna try to add a cool flounce to the bottom. I work manual labor, so I can't do a full pirate-coat-skirt situation without getting maybe caught in a conveyor belt, but a few inches should be fine.

I cut out this long curved strip of fabric. It took so much finagling to get as curved of a piece as I could out of my existing fabric. (Some of you can already see it's not gonna be curved enough.)

I did the usual: pin and hem the bottom edge, then use my diamond stitch like a serging stitch on the side that's gonna be hidden.

Huge shoutout to past me for marking a mending point with a huge safety pin. I fixed it real quick while my machine was still on diamond stitch.

Then I pinned the ruffle on, right sides together, and tried it on, only to be sorely disappointed.

I don't like this at all. I don't like the weird petal-looking situation at the front. I don't like the way the back does nothing. Basically, I have enough waist-hip differential that I need a much more curved flounce to make it actually pop up off my hips.

So, we're going back to the drawing board for this one. At least I tried it on before sewing! I unpinned it all and I'm gonna try wearing the vest as-is for a few days. Maybe I'll find out I can live with it after all, or maybe I'll find a better solution.

Wish me luck!

[postapocalypticromance]

Barcelona stand as a really interesting artefact of the pre-superclub era of football. The other way of putting it is that they were wilfully out of step with how football has developed over the last 15 odd years.

It's been commented on a myriad times, what with the lamenting of how Barcelona lost its soul, but if anything, Barcelona were behind the curve with it.

If there's one thing that stand as true it's that football is fundamentally a race to the bottom, whether financially or otherwise. I'd say the vast majority of top clubs realised this in the 2000s. In fact, Real Madrid might have been the first to cash in heavily on the idea with their failure of a galacticos policy. Whether or not you like it, the age of the superclub has arrived and, for the moment, is here to stay, and if a club doesn't step in line with the spending needed to consistenly challenge at the top, they risk falling down the proverbial pecking order.

Barcelona sticking rigidly to their principles regarding having no shirt sponsor, their veneration for La Masia, the Cruyffian style, so on and so forth, was kinda just stupid, especially around the turn of the 2000s and into the 2010s and could possibly be a major reason for their horrendous financial situation over the past few seasons. The idea of not having a main shirt sponsor is admirable in the 20th century when monetary investment in a squad didn't have quite as much of a correlation with success, but in the 21st century it was idealistic at best, unintentional self-sabotage at worst.

Additionally, the idea of having a club being steeped in one philosophy works when you have an academy that turns out top quality players on a consistent basis. But no academy can do that consistently. To run an academy is a risk. It's the equivalent of investing in stocks, where the resources spent don't inherently come out with you in the black.

Frankly, Barcelona were, and still are, to an extent, a club from an era that doesn't exist anymore. There were elements of them accepting that pure traditionalism doesn't work anymore, what with their signing of Neymar and Luis Suarez in the mid 2010s, but they've been slow on the uptake. Because of the success of the La Masia graduates in the mid to late 2000s and the very, very long-standing tactical traditions of the club, there's an element of bloody-mindedness about the way the club is runs and presents itself. This level of principle is just completely at odds with the reality of running a club. No club, whether that be Liverpool, Barcelona, Real Madrid, Manchester City, Napoli, Borussia Dortmund, whoever, can exist in success whilst being run as a bastion of morality or cultural significance. It has to be run as a business, and if you can tack some culture elements onto the side, then that's the best you can get.

The hollowing out and butchering of Barcelona sits as what is essentially a cautionary tale, what with general mismanagement, poor transfer business, and just generally sticking to the idea of ethos and club philosophy too closely. Transfer and business failings are only part of the foundations of sand that every football club is built upon, and the idea of following principles from the previous century is a massive risk.

The funny thing here is that, in isolation, nothing Barcelona have done is wrong. Focusing on cultivating a club wide style of play, using your academy to the fullest extent, so on and so forth, aren't wrong. The problem is a decade of flawed transfer dealings (if you're paying 100 million for a transfer, you'd best make sure they can deliver), and stacking debt has meant that they're in the situation they are now. It's only by the extreme fortune of having a solid number of good players graduate from La Masia recently that they're not in direr straights. But unless they get far more savvy with their transfer dealings, they're going to end up in the same situation again because La Masia won't produce quality players like a conveyor belt, they'll need to outsource.

Barcelona, as an institution, haven't modernised in the same way that Manchester City, Arsenal, Bayern Munich, PSG, Napoli, Bayern Munich, or Inter Milan have. They haven't looked at the world around them and thought about how they can fit into the current world order. They've tried to do it on their terms, which isn't wrong to do, but those terms were written 50 years ago when the footballing landscape was wildly different.

[pufferfishdude]

Krypto the Superdog: Season 1 Episode 6 Part 2

Krypto arrives on the giant dog planet and is confronted by guards refusing to let him pass even when he explains he's trying to retrieve a friend of his. The guard turning Krypto down face to face, calling Krypto “little doggie”, at which point Mammoth Mutt appear from the Dog Star Patrol kennel's conveyor belt platform and proclaims a catchphrase of hers, "Who you callin' little?" for the first time.

She jumps on the platform, her body growing larger in a bean-shape with the limbs extending and plumping up as the fat rolls around them form, making her look like an overweight dog. The next frame has neck shown to be extended while the back rolls appear, making the rolls stretch out and curve subtly whereas more folds appear around the limbs. Next the body swells enough to grow round, the neck just visible with her collar sunken in and the rolls looking more natural, the hind leg still visible. Then she finally reaches full size, the head pressed in with the rolls reflecting it in the furthest curve line reaching her front left leg, which has one fold by it, indicating flds within folds at play. With a determined expression, Mutt rolls forward, though an artistic error makes the left leg tan with her belly for the frame, but it's normal in the succeeding frames. As she rolls, we get to see the hinds legs and tail in the last frames as she gets to her side and back before jumping off. Here she's roughly just over three times her normal dimensions. (Pic 1)

Mammoth Mutt lands between Krypt and the giant dogs, now having inflated to a much larger size than before, twice the size of Krypto himself, legs much further apart and a larger back and belly. The bounce causes the guards to be sent back on contact with her massive belly and side, the impact making the heroine's figure squish into an oval shape before settling back to normal. The hind leg is surrounded by two curve lines with the furthest giving a sense of girth to the area. A fun detail is that her ears move downwards as she lands and bounce back, a cute reaction giving the speed of the belt combined with the flying roll-jump probably made the bounce a little harder than expected. She adorably smiles at Krypto with her eyes closed. (Pic 2)

Krypto and Mammoth Mutt see more security dogs make their way towards them, the latter deflating to normal size. More folds are present around her head, heavily spread out and covering more area on the front than the last shot, going down to where her legs stick out. The collar sticking out once her bloated backside reaches where the furthest back fold was originally. Her deflation has the round shape stick up to the smallest possible instance, reaching her normal height but with a ball body, the hind legs now possible to touch the ground in seconds.

[dropout-if]

— being distrustful of the other’s bfs/gfs and Statler (I need to see Noir in action👀)

From this ask game!

Allowing Kai to do groceries often involves a week with an upset stomach—such an excuse is believable enough, especially for those who know your roommate. Truthfully, you know Statler’s shifts at the store like the back of your hand, and you make sure to visit them when you know the fewest customers will show up. Statler’s mind tends to wander, then. They’re more than up to chat for a little while.

Today, as you enter the grocery store, you spot Statler at the checkout counter, typing aimlessly at their phone—frowning. Their ebony skin glows under the harsh store lights, and you can’t help the few spare seconds that your eyes treacherously linger on their focused frame.

You open your mouth to greet Statler when they suddenly stand, cell phone against their ear, and they leave through the back door.

A little confused, you decide to navigate through the aisles, selecting items with casual glances to the list on your phone. It’s not long before you reach the checkout line, where you patiently wait until Statler returns. Their eyes meet yours, and a flicker of surprise registers before their much friendlier mask is back in place.

“Hey,” they greet you, looking a bit tired. Statler places your items on the conveyor belt as always.

You frown a bit, worriedly, “Hey, Statler.”

Statler scans your groceries with practiced efficiency. They ignore their buzzing phone.

“Everything good with you?” you ask, trying to keep your tone casual.

They furrow their brow, and look away sheepishly, “Yeah, just some personal stuff. Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?”

With a sigh, Statler’s lips curve into a weary smile, “Just— Noir. They… it’s a bit complicated.”

You feel a pang of something in your chest.

“Is that…?” you motion towards their phone.

Statler grimaces—they finish ringing up your items—rubbing a hand over their face, “You know Noir. They— We had a rough night.”

“Again?” you press gently, referring to the frequent ‘rough nights’ Statler—and their partner—have been experiencing lately. You admit, “I’m worried.”

“Oh, don’t be! Noir is okay—”

You clarify, “About you.”

Statler gulps, eyes darting down to your groceries, only to look up at you with a smile that feels much more sincere.

“Thank you,” they say, “I… appreciate that. Sorry— I’m a bit out of it today.”

You bite your lip, struggling with your growing unease, “Statler, you’ve been putting up with a lot. It’s not healthy.”

“I love Noir,” they say—mechanical, well-rehearsed, “And I can handle this.”

“Well—” there’s a lot you want to say, a lot you don’t know how to put into words, and much more that Statler is practically begging you to keep quiet about, “I’m— I’m here for you. And Noir. Both of you, yeah.”

[insane-control-room]

crooked grin

He needs to perfect it. It's driving him mad.

ink demonth - obsession Rated: G Warnings: death at end, obsession, ocd, obsession turning into madness, fire mention AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58831696/ Length: 500

Crooked smiles. It was such a small, insignificant thing. And yet... they seemed to be the source of all of Shawn's problems. Extraordinarily simple- all he had to do was make a stamp, a mold, and then he would be able to print those smiles sans issue. Quick and efficient, too.

There was one tiny, miniscule issue with that, though.

Something about the simple, curved grin of the damn devil pulled him in; like a fly drawn to sap, ensnared and then encased in amber. It was perfectly even, with four teeth on each side, seven perfect strokes. A genteel slope, elegantly curved.

What a gorgeous smile.

Too bad he could not get it right. Each and every time Shawn believed that he had accomplished replicating that straight smile, he was left with a crooked grin. It was maddening, to be so enticed and yet never fulfilled, a modern era tantalusian task reserved solely for the toy maker.

Straining for perfection, he painted over and over, only to find himself constantly dissatisfied and frustrated by that stupid smile. The beatific lines of teeth shifted to look like frustrating prison bars, locking Shawn behind their uneven, imperfect alignment. He had to get it right. There was no escape or reprieve from this calling, the black eyes above the twisted grin appearing malicious and taunting.

Shawn's frustration increased exponentially, beginning as a small ember and quickly morphing into a blazing, raging inferno. As time went on and he failed to replicate the smile repeatedly, dozens and dozens of misprints growing behind him, the desire to engulf those toys in the fire in his heart stoked as well; to destroy them in the flame to be rid of them all, freeing himself of their ghastly, overwhelming gaze. Yet they were still taken up the conveyors and to shops and sold, somehow infuriating Shawn even further. Yes, he had received critique on those crooked smiles, but they were still stolen from him and distributed to unknowing children. Those wrong dolls, those broken souls unable to scream behind the prison bars of warbled teeth.

Shawn felt the unbearable urge to correct that wrong. To fix the smiles, to get rid of the taunting, wicked grins and never have them plague another living being. Shawn was aware that the root of the matter was not the dolls, though, but rather the original smiling demon that spawned in the studio.

And the studio was wooden. And ink burns.

With the cunning of a man thoroughly gripped by a singleminded passion, Shawn began his preparations. Day by day he took a strand of cotton and wove it, dipped it in ink, and hid it along the inside of the conveyor belt system. Painstakingly slowly, he found the end again at the end of the month, satisfying him. Each shelf was filled to the brim with those evil smiling things.

Eager to culminate his goal, Shawn struck a match.

When they found it, his corpse' smile was perfectly straight. 

[trinrose3]

Little fic of James meeting and deciding he wants to adopt Amelia :}

little over 2k words

 If you had asked James what he thought his life would amount  to, he would have given a response along the lines of: something lonely, but fulfilling. For James was a man too scared of love and too scared of being loved. He was a man who was perfectly content with being alone for the rest of his life. Or so he would tell himself. 

 However, he knew that life has a way of changing people. He knew that life’s unexpected curve balls could be good, but he had far more experience with them being bad, awful even. It was as if he had almost given up on the possibility that life could have kindness in store, especially for him. He could not predict the change that would soon come to him, let alone the happiness that it would bring to him…

James walked down the linoleum tiles of the pediatric wing of the hospital; watching as nurses and doctors hustle and bustle about.  He had just finished giving some horrible news to a family and wanted nothing more than a break. Unfortunately,  he knew that could barely take a breath without being moved down the medical care conveyor belt to his next patient. So here he was, approaching the nurses station, home base if you will, for his next assignment. 

“Doctor Jackson!” A nurse called out to him holding a file for him to grab, “You have a new patient in room 4.”

Nodding in acknowledgement he said, “Thank you, I’ll head there straight away.” as he grabbed the folder from her grasp. 

Name: Amelia [No Last Name].

Quickly scanning the documents he gathered that she was a small girl who had been found wandering near the entrance of the hospital, glassy eyed and delirious in the early morning hour of 3 am. Apparently, she was left with nothing but the clothes on her back which seemed to barely even fit her. Not even a note was left with her. 

James frowned, he wished he could say that it was an uncommon occurrence to find children, some even as old as 17, left in front of the hospital by their guardians, but he would be lying. Not that he exactly minded lying, it was an easy way to avoid uncomfortable conversations with patients, their loved ones, and even bosses and coworkers. However, it would be a lie nonetheless.

Taking a sharp deep breath, he plastered an all too common fake smile on his face as he opened the door. He found himself wearing fake ones more than the real deal in recent years. He barely managed to get a ‘hello’ out of his mouth before the little one interrupted him. 

“What happened to your leg?’ A small weak and little voice asked from the confined of the bed he was now approaching. He did gladly note that she seemed to be perky enough to ask; a good sign. 

“Car crash when I was younger.” He said not even missing a beat, having done this little dance a million times now. He should have been a court jester.

“Did it hurt?” She said, tilting her head slightly, clearly more concerned for him despite her being the one in the hospital bed. 

Curious little thing she was turning out to be. 

“They tend to.” He said bluntly.

“Oh,” was the only girl's response. Her wide blue eyes darted to her hands which she was using to nervously grasp at the blanket of her bed. Clearly, she did not want to be there. Not that he could blame her; not many people actually want to be there, not even the doctors on occasion.

James sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. His bedside manner usually wasn’t so atrocious, but he slept a little worse than usual last night. Which is to say he didn’t sleep at all. He desperately wished he could have gotten even at least one of his usual 4 to 5 hours but that seemed to not be in the cards for him that day. Shame.

“My apologies, Miss…” James said, trailing off waiting for her to respond with a name. He knew her name of course,  but he knew letting her answer would make her feel more comfortable. 

“Amelia.” She said, her posture relaxing slightly.

“That’s a very lovely name, Amelia.” 

The girl giggled, a little bit of color returning to her, warm brown skin, before quickly turning into a coughing fit. Taking the opportunity presented in front of him, he used his stethoscope to listen to her lungs. 

James frowned. Crackling. Not good. 

Quickly he began making note of what the next steps of the poor dear’s care should be with the nurse, all too aware of the curious, yet very confused eyes hardly ever shifting away from him. 

He had a feeling that Amelia would be here a long time. He also couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d be by her side through it all as well. How odd. 

It had been about a week since he was placed as Amelia’s (permanently) assigned doctor. Apparently, he was the only one that she didn’t get too scared or fussy with. Not that he minded, he hated to admit it but he began to grow quite fond of the girl. Perhaps he just recognized a part of himself within her; A scared lonely child. It was one of the main reasons he went into this field after all; do for others what was never done for him. 

He wanted to protect and care.

 Safely.

From a distance.

With no emotional attachments. 

Which he was very, very clearly not succeeding at, if the giant pink stuffed rabbit in his hand was any indication.

 Oh dear lord, help him. 

Now, it wasn’t unusual to hear screams in the halls of the hospital; the damn things were practically echo chambers of suffering. Any person let alone doctor would have immediate concern for whoever was behind that scream, and James was certainly no exception.  However, the fact that he had recognized it as Amelia’s is what stirred him into action and away from any potential second guessing about his choice in stuffed animal. It was times like these that he wished his leg wasn’t practically impossible to run with, even on a good day. 

He all but slammed his way into Amelia’s room, not even pausing to take a breath as he barked, “what’s going on here?”

A disgruntled nurse who was clearly in the act of trying to placate the small thing turned to him and said, “I tried to give her a shot and she freaked.”

The guilty look on Amelia’s  face along with blotchy red cheeks and a wobbly pout,  as fat tears rolled down her eyes, was enough of an indication that that was the truth.  Gently, he approached her, noting how she seemed to relax from her defensive posture, which was curled in and facing away from the nurse.

“You know,” he began softly as he sat next to her bed, “A lot of people are scared of shots. Unfortunately, that doesn’t remove the fact that they are a necessity to feeling better. You do want to feel better, yes?”

Amelia just sniffled and nodded in response. 

“Well, that’s good to hear. Do you remember how I said that a lot of people are scared of shots?”

She just furrowed her eyebrows in confusion; she must have been worn out from that little fit of hers. She seemed to have a tendency to go nonverbal at times he had noted a while ago.

“You know, I just so happen to have a friend here with me who tends to get scared of them as well,” James said as he held out the stuffed animal for her to grab, “do you think you can hold on to him? It might make the both of you feel better.”

Amelia was quite obviously enamored by the pink rabbit if the widening of her eyes, and stimming was any indication. She seemed to hesitate to reach out for it, almost as if she was afraid it was a test. James just simply nodded for her to go ahead as he nudged the fluffy thing towards her. It barely took her a second to grab it and hold it tightly in a hug as she nuzzled into it.

 He couldn’t help the warm fuzziness that filled his heart or the soft smile that melted onto his face...Did he want kids? He almost imperceptibly shook his head to get rid of the thought, only for him to end up all too aware of it in the back of his mind, like a piece of popcorn stuck in his gums.

He motioned to the nurse to hand over the needle, which she seemed all too eager to do. 

“Amelia,” He said, watching her head pop up from the fuzz it was buried in, “Do you think you could let me give the shot to you? You can keep holding on to your new friend, it should only take a second.”

The girl seemed to be mulling it over, and he watched as her eyes darted between him, the rabbit, and the scary evil needle. After a minute or so of internal debate, she slowly nodded her head as scooted closer to him, giving him access to her arm. 

“Now this will only hurt a pinch..”

The thought had been keeping him up all night. It wasn’t the usual kind that he had. Those tended to be ones filled with terror and paranoia. The kind that despite being several states away and practically untraceable made him fear that he would be found by his parents. The kind that made him stay up all night, hardly blinking as he shakily held a knife in his hand. The kind that made him want to break down sobbing till his alarm buzzed in his ears.

He was happy it wasn’t one of those, but it was still a concerning one to him nonetheless. 

Adoption.

Was that something he really wanted to do? Was it too soon? James had only known her for a few months at this point. Was that even appropriate? Was this just some kind of projection? Him wishing that someone had found him when he was young so he didn’t have to bite and claw his way out of his own cage of a home? 

The little girl had wormed his way into his heart, that much was obvious. 

Most parents, let alone people, seemed to even put that much thought into the notion of having children. So he supposed he was already ahead of the game in some aspects. He knows that Amelia’s caseworker(s) had been having a hard time finding a good foster home, let alone a family to adopt her. Not that he was surprised; she had a long and very expensive hospital bill; nobody in their right mind would want to be burdened with that. So it was a good thing that there was a decent amount of anonymous donations that just so happened to be eating any cost that she might have been building up so far.

 What a coincidence. 

Perhaps he should ask his neighbor August about it. He didn’t know the man very well, which was very much his own fault, but he did know that he had recently become a family based lawyer. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too much of an embarrassment or awkward conversation.

It’s not that James was antisocial or anything; he just had a hard time connecting to people. He found the act of socialization to be a tad…scary. He could hardly count the amount of friends he had growing up on one finger. Then again, being a twelve year old in high school made that quite difficult.  His neighbors were good and friendly, as were their children, disruptive as they could occasionally be —not that he particularly minded; they were children after all. 

He should invite August over. Yes, that seemed like a good start…

For the first time in a while, he felt oddly peaceful as he drifted off to sleep. It seems as if he had made up his mind on the matter. 

He was going to adopt Amelia.