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53v3nfrn5 · 5 months
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The Well of Death Photog. Siddharth Kaneria
The wall of death, motordrome, or well of death is a carnival sideshow featuring a silo- or barrel-shaped wooden cylinder located in New Dehli, India. Inside, motorcyclists, or the drivers of miniature automobiles travel along the vertical wall and perform stunts, held in place by friction and centrifugal force. The original wall of death was in 1911 on Coney Island in the United States.
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20churrneedsbread08 · 2 years
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😢the wa-waffles...
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emaadsidiki · 2 years
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The Eighth Voyage of Sindbad & Poseidon's Fury
The Mystic Fountain. Ambling The Lost Continent
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saraw4ters · 3 months
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different POV of this comic
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zippocreed501 · 1 year
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youtube
Archaos
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kendallsroyco · 2 years
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King shit 🤷
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s0fter-sin · 9 days
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soapghost circus au
ghost’s an extreme motorcycle stunt performer - globe of death, riding on his back wheel along tightropes, that sort of thing
soap’s a fire breather/dancer. he’s a roaming performer; he just finds empty spaces or bored people and starts twirling
he pretends not to notice the way he always wanders towards a certain tent every night to watch a certain masked daredevil defy gravity. he thinks he's slick and that ghost won't notice him in the crowd, completely forgetting that he's carrying something that happens to be on fire
ghost couldn't miss him if he tried
one day off, soap's trialing fire whips; he loves the loud crack and the way the flame licks through the air and maybe he's a little too impatient to practice with non flaming whips first, even though he's never used one before
he's covered in soot and fine welts where the tip of the whip keeps flicking back up at him, cutting through his shirt and stinging his skin but he doesn't let that stop him. it starts to stick to him, damp with sweat and blood and he's quick to strip it off; throwing it to the side to keep practicing
when soap finally gets a few good cracks in a row and breaks to celebrate, he almost jumps out of his skin when he sees the masked rider leaning against a trailer watching him
of all the times he's wanted ghost to talk to him, this is not one of them
he wanted to impress him, dance for him with his flaming batons and be mesmerised by his fluidity and skill
not catch him filthy and struggling with something as basic as a whip
he's ready for ghost to ream him out for not having control over the whip - he's known throughout the circuit for expecting utter perfection in his routines - but when ghost finally does speak, it's only to ask if he's done for the day
soap falters for a moment. he wanted to get some consistency with the whip before he stopped, but he's starting to feel the hours of practice; muscles aching and skin blistered with minor burns
he says he is and ghost pushes off the trailer, nodding his head to make soap follow. he brings him back to his trailer and tells him to clean up then takes out his personal med kit to treat the grazes on soap's skin
soap's shocked; for all that he loves to watch ghost perform, they've never really talked before
part of why he joined the circus was so he wouldn't be a burden on anyone, the oldest in a family with too many mouths to feed and not even time to nurture, and here he is taking up ghost's valuable practice time be he wasn't good enough to handle his own discipline. he tries to brush him off, downplaying the burns and tries to leave before half them can be treated but ghost just glares and orders him to sit back down
ghost does expect perfection from himself but it isn’t out of any malice or ego; it's bc he knows if he isn't perfect, he could very easily die. he’s picked a dangerous profession and he gives it the respect it deserves. there isn't any shame in being a novice or failing at something; he thinks there's a lot of beauty in having the courage to get back up again and again
so every day he watches soap practice and bullies him into his trailer to put him back together bc he knows he won't do it by himself
and every night soap wanders over to ghost's section of the fair grounds, in awe of his skill and wishing he could be worthy of the care he gives him
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gifs-of-puppets · 9 months
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The Muppet Show (1976-1981)
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the-gabardine-fox · 8 months
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Wrap gift I made last year for the incredible professionals who helped to create this scene!
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emaadsidiki · 1 year
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Raiders of the Lost Ark  📝 🎬 
Indiana Jones Epic Stunt Spectacular!  💡🎥 📣 
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onestormynight · 1 year
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hell of a way to go out
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short-honey-badger · 2 months
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Shore Leave
Summary! Captain Lasky orders the Master Chief a two week shore leave. Overwhelmed by his lack of armor and unused to the flow of civilian traffic, he parks himself on a bench and meets you.
Pairings! Master Chief x Reader
Set after the events of Halo 4 and influenced from my love of the game and how good season 2 of the TV series. I wanted to try my hand at something new. I hope you enjoy.
Part 2 -> HERE Part 3 -> HERE
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Master Chief Petty Officer Sierra 117, or John to his friends - the few he had left, cautiously strode through the throngs of civilians. Captain Lasky had ordered him a full two weeks shore leave, no combat, no weapon, no MJOLNIR. Lasky had suggested he take some time to himself, grieve if he needed to after fighting for so long with little reprieve in between battles. To be honest, John wasn't sure what he should do with his time. Despite being one of the last of the original Spartans, the chief had hardly ever been completely alone.
Cortana. She'd always been there, a soft hum in the back of his mind, and John wasn't proud enough to admit that he felt a little lost without her.
Even though the armorless spartan towered above the crowd, he began to feel surrounded, overwhelmed with how densely packed the city was. He wasn't used to being out of his armor, and it made him feel naked, vulnerable in a way that John didn't like. Luckily, he spotted a bench not too much farther away, situated at the beginning of what looked like a small park. John sat heavily, back straight and blue eyes casting around as he took deep breaths to regulate his breathing.
No one bothered him, and John took the time to watch the hoards of civilians go to and fro. He watched couples hold hands, and families carefully guide their children along the sidewalks, each man and woman heading to whatever their destination may be. After a while, and now that John had been able to relax a little, he realized that he enjoyed watching the flow and allowed his mind to wander.
Could he ever have something like this? Such a mundane and easy life, never worrying if the next battle he faced would be his last. If he would ever see his brothers and sisters again? Would he ever live such a simple existence where his only fear is missing the train? The Master Chief doesn't think that he could, not when so much of himself has been lost to war and death. Not when it was his duty to protect the civilians here so that they could have that life.
“Sir, you've been sitting here a while now. Can I help you with anything?”
John is brought out of his thoughts by the soft voice. He turns his head and sees that you have somehow snuck up on him, and he silently berates himself for not noticing. However, you had asked him a question, and the Chief didn't want to come off as rude.
“No, ma'am. Just…watching,” He says slowly, and he feels his cheeks heat up a bit. Was that odd to say? John didn't know, but he felt reassured when he spots the smile that curled your lips.
“Well, good. I don't think I’d be strong enough to haul you anywhere if there was something wrong,” you say, and huff a little at your own words.
John doesn't know what to say to that. He doesn't have any kind of experience with civilians, not like this, anyway. He wracks his brain for something to say and wishes that Cortana was still here to walk him through this.
However, you don't seem to mind his silence. Instead, you sit back on the bench and look out at the busy stream of people. You are quiet for a while, but the spartan is prepared when you speak up again.
“I like to people watch too. Makes you feel a little less alone in the universe, ya know?” You say and grin again, suddenly scooting down the bench to sit beside the big man who seemed far too lonely when you'd seen him outside the café across the street.
John tenses, not expecting to have you so close, but he doesn't deny that feeling the heat from where your arm is pressed into his feels…nice. He nods slowly, agreeing with your quiet statement.
“It makes you realize that you aren't the only one out there having a hard time, or becoming successful, or even falling in love. We are all human, and even if it doesn't seem like it, we're all in this together,” you pause, and then your smile becomes a bit mischievous.
“And it's kind of fun to make up stories about them.”
John blinks, a bit confused about that. He turns and looks down at his guest, feeling his cheeks heat up again when he sees you looking right back, eyes cheerful and face far too close to his own. He looks away quickly and sits up straight from his slight slouch.
‘What do you mean?”
Bravely, you lean into his space and gesture subtly at an older couple that are walking down the sidewalk, a heated discussion going on between them. The man looks annoyed as his wife babbles on about who knows what, and you giggle softly and say.
“She's probably upset because her husband - they are definitely married, by the way - forgot to take out the trash. Look at him, he's heard this a thousand times.”
John takes in the look of fond exasperation that paints the older man's expression, squinting his eyes to try and see it the way you are. It doesn't make much sense to him, but he thinks he understands.
You poke your new friend in the arm and nod your head at a gaggle if girl's who are giggling and fawning over a data pad.
“They're probably looking at the cute boy who invited one of them to prom. Or maybe a famous celebrity crush.”
You point out a few other civilians, and one or two of your little stories get the stoic man to crack a tiny smile, and eventually relax again, even with you pressed so close to his side. It feels good to have someone near. Someone who can so easily take up the quiet space that he still isn't used to feeling. The Master Chief finds that he rather likes your company and would like to know more about you.
John finally speaks up again when there is a lul in the rather one-sided conversation, turning to face you completely.
“Do you think you could show me more?”
You take in the careful way he asks, the soft timbre of his voice, and you find yourself nodding easily, and you offer your hand, introducing yourself properly.
“I'd love to. My name is _.”
The Spartan carefully takes your offered hand and marvels at just how small it is compared to his own. He meets your gaze, his blue eyes striking in the city lights.
“My name is John.”
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heeheehoohoo8 · 9 days
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Songs that remind you of Cooper Howard/ The Ghoul (Fallout) go! I’ll start ‘Wanted Dead or Alive’ by Bon Jovi
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kendallsroyco · 1 month
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Truly who is doing it like Matthew Michael Murdock?
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sootygifs · 12 days
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"An Audience With Sooty" - 1997
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