#redone the dashboard

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

‘I see you’ve done up the dashboard a bit.’

‘I could say it looks nice, but I try not to lie.’

[creeksandsocks]

Seven Minutes in Heaven

Eddie Munson X F!Reader

Tags: Fluff, kissing, parties, drinking, dubcon (just in case, Eddie was drinking in the fic but not drunk and they were apprehensive as they entered the closet) [3.8k words]

A nervous game of seven minutes in heaven make your first high school party memorable.

A high school party - it’s really not a big deal. A rite of passage for some, most, even. But, when you're a senior and you're about to attend your first, it seems like a pretty damn big deal. You cannot believe that Robin was able to convince you to go to this thing, Maggie McCoor’s party, with her, let alone be the designated driver. But you love Robin, Robin loves you. And she claims, given she had her license and you had one opportunity to talk to your crush out of marching-band uniform, she'd do the same thing for you.

No matter who will be at the party, though there is someone that you’d like to show off to, you want to look nice. If someone didn’t know better, anyone could mistake the mess in your closet that came from picking an outfit with a small twister whirling through your room. You’ve redone your hairstyle thrice, now and you're on the verge of banging your hairbrush against your head until it breaks. But, on your fourth try your hair is parted and wispies fall in a way that you decide satisfies you. You re-pierce your healed ears with cheap silver hoops, before putting on your shoes. Reeboks, they've had better days for sure. Because, unfortunately, the wear and tear of killing multidimensional monsters is not kind to shoes. But, they're cute enough to do with your dress, which is strapless (brave of you), and will survive whatever escapades you’ll get up to as the night wears on.

Right as you pull up in front of the Buckley’s, Robin is bursting down the pathway. Hands spayed against herself to keep her unbuttoned vest from allowing her body heat to escape. Before she even buckles her seatbelt she's urging you to punch it “Okay let's gooo!!!” she urges “Vickie might be there now, I cannot miss a second of being there without her. Can you imagine? The only time you've ever seen your crush is in a two foot tall marching band hat?”. She speaks with no pauses, stopping only when she runs out of air and pulls the seatbelt over her chest. “I mean c’mon really those things are like chastity belts!” she continues and you put off her nervous rambling “Robin, you look great”, you assure her “Vickie will think so, too”. She's brought down to earth by what you say, you were able to read between the lines of everything she said and comfort on the one thing she was most worried about. “Thanks” she admits, and takes a deep breath, probably the first one since she jumped into your car, “you too. He’s gonna think you look good, too”.

You abruptly top your car at the stop sign, jerking robin around in your passenger seat at what shes implying. You turn your face to her and poorly lie before easing your foot off the break. “Idunnowhatyourtalkinganouyt”. Robin sighs and curls her knees up, placing the bottom of her converse on the dashboard. “Oh my goooood” she groans, “I mean COME ON! Eddie obviously likes you and you're clearly…” she gestures trying to find a unique phrase “pink in the cheeks for him”. Raising your eyebrow at her shity idiom, “whatever. I mean- I'll make you a deal. I'll be brave tonight with Vickie if you make a move on Eddie”. You run your tongue behind your teeth, tracing the outlines of your molars as you mull over what she's proposing. You do have a burning crush on Eddie; and, while you don't want to be too sure in assuming he has the hots for you too, he does seem a little flirty whenever you see him. Besides, you’re not even going to a rager, anyways. It's more band kids, nerds and geeks listening to The Talking Heads that you and Robin know by association anyways - so if any advances you make do happen to be sourly rejected at least it's not going to be entertainment for Jason Carver.

 “Fine” you decide, “I get that rejection for you is worse for me, socially, in the grand scheme of things Rob”, you level with her. Because, it's not the same. A girl being rejected by a guy sucks and surely wouldn't make you be labeled as any less of a freak. But, being outed for confessing to the wrong person could be genuinely dangerous for Robin, especially in a widely close-minded town like this. “But,” you continue, “you have to try, too. You can’t bail out if you sutter or accidentally create an innuendo”. Robin sighs and holds her hand out to you, you remove one hand from the wheel and awkwardly twist it to solidly shake her hand. At that, your deal has been sealed. 

You slide your Chevrolet Citation into an empty parking space on CartersVille Dr. Parking a three minute walk from Maggie’s, all the closer spots were occupied by cars of other teens who were more eager to get to the dinky supply of beer. You check yourself in your sunshade mirror, checking for mascara crumbles under your eyes before flipping it up. Robin moves your bag from the passenger side floor and plots it into your lap. She unbuckles and tries to pep talk you both “Now or never”.

The cool night air is refreshing, soothing the biting nervous blush at your cheeks. You're close enough to the house now that you can hear music blasting from the bottom of the long driveway. “Okay: gameplan” Robin starts, “I need you to be my crutch tonight, just for a little bit. Help get the conversation grooving between me and her and then maybe dash off? I'll be your wing woman too, promise”. You nod as you listen to Robin, taking in all the aspects of her rambled plan.

Maggie’s paneled front door is cracked open. The act relives the uncomfortable ‘knock or just enter’ dilemma that is often commonly debated from porches at parties. Pushing in, music blares. Thankfully you recognize The cassette playing and it lures you in. With Robin following closely behind, you snake through the party, which is more crowded than Robin promised, and softly wave at every familiar face you pass. Once you reach the kitchen you slow your pace. You tell Robin to grab whatever drink she’d like ‘cause you're driving and you reach into the cooler beside you to grab a Pepsi. You carefully eye your best friend as she wanders over to the drink table, settling in a spot just besides Vickie. They seem to make small talk, debating mixers for their shitty cocktails when someone taps your shoulder.

You look over and are greeted by the near angelic face of Eddie Musnon. He’s cradling two solo cups to his chest as he leans in close to greet you. A pang of hurt hits your heart as you imagine that one of those cups could be for a girl, possibly even a date. Someone who's decidedly not you. But your eyes are drawn back up as he leans in to speak, “I didn’t know you were coming! I’m glad you did - I'm kinda lonely anyways. Doug handed his cup off to me so he could go play beer pong with some transfer student. "He's punctuated by a cheer in the other room, rowdy kids exacerbated at the idea that their friends are going to chug a glass of cheap beer. You're relieved to learn that the second cup Eddie’s holding is just for his friend, not for a girl.

You angle up towards his ear “I’m kinda playing wingman too, yaknow?”. Eddie nods and takes a swig from his cup, he winces at the taste, pulling the corners of his mouth down but offers some to you, anyways. As the music changed you responded to him near yelling “Thanks but I gotta drive later”. Eddie makes a sympathetic face at that “damn you really got screwed - designated driver and wingman. Or, wing…woman?”. You both laugh at his poor joke and he questions you “hey- who’s Robin after anyways?” You’re saved from an awkward conversation trying to explain why you can’t tell Eddie who Robin’s after because Doug comes galloping into the room. “Ed c’mon man” he slurs “im getting my ass beat in there, Jeff’s no good”. Eddie makes a disappointed sound at the fact that he's being literally dragged away from you. He mouths ‘sorry’ just before he disappears into the living room where beer pong is going at full speed.

Robin saunters over to you with a knowing look “what were you saying about him not liking you? He looked like a kid who dropped his ice cream when he was being dragged away from you”. You gently shoulder her as she leans on the counter next to you. “So vickie” you interrupt “awkward?”. Her face lights up, “actually one of our most successful yet! Aaand I got more proof that we’re perfect together: she likes grenadine, too”. You respond flatly “wow a match made in heaven” before you’re unsurely dragged onto the dancefloor by robin's side.

You're working up a sweat, dancing in a small group with Robin, Vickie and Eleanor from psych. You're all having fun, twirling around and bumping into each other while a curated mixtape fills the room. You turn to Robin, about to let her know you’re gonna run and grab some water when Maggie herself grabs you and Elanor by the biceps. She drunkenly leads you away from the dancing in the living room and into the grandeur of her dining room. The lights actually being turned on is a shock from the soft lamplight of the living room and many faces, some familiar, some not, crowd around the table; all chairs are occupied so many just press themselves against it. “Alright!” Maggie starts, pulling you and Eleanor up next to her at the head of the table, “Two more girls so that's…” she quietly counts to herself “... Even! Alright let's play!”. “Play?” you question Maggie, unsure about what's going on. She flips her head between you and Eleanor “Guys, seriously? Seven minutes in heaven! Were gonna spin the bottle and whoever it lands on is who you play with”. “No!” both you and your new acquaintance say. You continue, “I don’t want to, this is so lame”. Maggie side eyes you “C’mon, you're not a chicken are you?”. This catches the attention of everyone at the table who starts making chicken sounds. Anxiety of public humiliation is hitting you hard. You wipe your sweaty palms on your dress and scan the room, some douchebags, some people you've never seen before, some of the people around the table are nice, even. But, they aren’t who you want to kiss. He is perched in the archway of the living room, with Doug and Jeff beside him white knuckling as he watches you be embarrassed. Deciding it might be worse to just jett out now than to sneak up to a closet with a stranger and confess you don’t want to kiss, you calculate the probability that you’ll even be picked. 

There's about eighteen of you at this huge oak table, half are girls, anyways - these close-minded high school kids won't expect you to actually kiss. “Fine.” you agree, and avert your gaze, deciding that picking at your freshly painted nails is more interesting than all the hungry boys at the opposite end of the table. Maggie claps her hands excitedly before she leans forwards and delivers instructions. “Okay people - here's how it’s gonna go: one lucky player will spin the bottle, whoever it lands on will go in pairs to a closet, there are three in my house, so three couples at a time, and they will do whatever they want to each other for seven minutes. But, when the time's up the door is getting opened if you're in the act or not, capiche?”. Nods and hums are made from around the table as the game gets started.

Eric, who you know from chemistry two years ago, is picked to go first. His buddies encouraged him to ‘get some’ after his recent break up. He leans forward on the table and twirls the brown glass beer bottle. The room is silent with anticipation, you will do it with your mind to avoid you - if you’re lucky you'll be able to not be picked for all three rounds then disappear under the guise of needing to pee. Your wishing works! The neck of the bottle is pointing in a straight shot at Staci Meyers. She clasps her hands over her mouth and is pushed over to Eric. Dramatic oohs fill the room as they are guided into an upstairs closet. The girl who was just standing next to Staci, Milia, is picked to go next. The room goes silent again as the bottle twirls and lands on Pete Michelson. The room stays silent, besides a few gasps. Pete has a girlfriend and she's not here tonight. But, the room cheers on his infidelity when he stands up from his chair and rushes into the closest closet with staci in close pursuit.

The scandal seems to rile up the room even more, and you even feel a little excited to see what couple is getting paired up next. But, all excitement sinks from you when a finger is pointed your way. “Hey, why don’t you go? Learn it's not all that bad”. You look up slowly and realize the finger is pointed at you. All eyes are turned your way waiting for your response. You have a reputation for being a bit weird, some of the people in this room even perpetuate rumors. You being spotted hanging out with Eddie this year hasn’t helped with name calling either. You don’t really want to, but you don’t wanna be seen as a scaredy cat. So, you begrudgingly reach forward and spin the bottle.

Your blood runs cold as it whirls around in the center of the table, anticipation at an all time high. You can’t peel your eyes away from it, nervously predicting who it will land on as it slows its spinning. But, it isn't that simple. The bottle lands facing the entryway of the living room, nestled a perfect distance between Sammy B. and Dominic F. The room silently makes eye contact, debating which one you’ll be paired up with. You secretly hope it’s Dominic. He's the sweeter guy out of the two, Sammy is a total stuck up guy who thinks he's cooler than you for liking The Graduate and The Velvet Underground. “WAIT”, an unrecognizable voice blares out. “IT'S POINTED AT THE FREAK!”. You follow the line made by the neck of the bottle and it’s pointed exactly at Eddie. The room erupts in hoots and hollers, more debates forming if you should even be paired with him- he wasn’t even playing the game. But, the unrecognizable voice, who you later find out is an asshole from bio, continues. Seering “it’s fate. Freak king and freak queen!”. You're being urged by everyone in the room to an equally mortified Eddie. He hasn’t moved a muscle from the shadowed corner of the dining room since you spun the bottle. Waiting patiently for whoever you kiss to become his mortal enemy.

Stumbling while being shoved you and Eddie and shoved into the final unoccupied closet in the house. It sits at the end of a hallway, just next to the living room blaring music.

The insulation of unused coats and snow pants immediately muffle the blastic music that floods in from the living room. The random muscle man who herded you and Eddie into the closet smirks and wishes you both good luck before slamming the door shut and clicking off the lights from outside.

Though a light pounding of music is still heard, it feels silent in the coat closet. The toes of your Reeboks touching Eddies in the cramped space is the only reminder that you're not in here alone. You're not even sure either of you have breathed when he breaks the silence. “I’m sorry”, he says smally and earnestly. “What?” you give a confused look to pair with the phrase but it’s lost to the darkness. “I mean I'm sorry that you… have to kiss me. I mean, like I assumed you wanted Dominic? I mean- that Sammy guy next to him is an asshole”. He trails off and stops when you speak. “Don’t be”, you say - reassuring Eddie “I don’t know those guys, anyways. I honestly feel like you're my best-bet situation. Unless, there was someone else you wanted to go with?”, you cross your fingers in the dark, hoping that there wasn’t someone else he wanted. He laughs to himself and continues. “Um, actually, there is someone I wanted to go with”. Your heart drops and your mouth shuts. You cross your arms in front of yourself, trying to physically shield your breaking heart. He goes on like he doesn't notice “I didn’t even play because I thought the only girl I wanted to join wasn't gonna play”. You drop your arms to your sides again, and try to play it cool that your swinging arm uncool knocks into a clothes hanger. He takes a deep breath, steading himself before he finishes his confession “I wanted it to be you”.

Your entire body springs up at what he says, you process his words - wanting to make sure you're not about to completely embarrass yourself. But, you can’t find any other ways to process what Eddie says. You still can’t believe it. “You like me?”, you quietly say, into the darkness of the closet. The closet replied sheepishly “Yeah. I do - since the beginning of the year”. Jumping at the opportunity, you confess back. “Seriously? Because… because I like you too”. Eddie reassures you “seriously” he promises.

Moving on pure instinct you place your hands on his shoulders. At the motion he softly wraps his arms around your waist, ghosting over your body. You raise onto your toes and slowly try to find his lips with yours. When you softly kiss him, he doesn’t seem to respond. Only sucking in his breath. But then, he reminds you why heaven is in the name of the game. He’s kissing you back, arching his neck, chasing your mouth, pulling you closer as you two slam against the walls of the closet, pushing each other around in the confined space while desperately trying to get closer.

Being blindfolded by the dark closet gives you confidence - you focus on what you feel versus what you look like. Running your hands over the texture of his shirt, twisting loose threads between your fingers and gently caressing the top of his muscular back. You’re hungry for him, his lips pressing into yours. Hips shoving each other around. He cradles your face, you appreciate the unsure heat of his mouth, his sweaty palms cupping your face. Because you’re sharing your first kiss, and you’ve just been shoved into a strangers closet, things stay sweet. Tongues are kept behind cages of teeth as you mush faces. Pecking and slobbering as you appreciate the moment as much as you can. Kissing him feels like a dream come true. you're completely lost in the moment. Moments, actually. But you don’t realize how much time you’ve spent with him in the closet until he door swings open and a bright flash illuminates you both.

Eyes recovering from the flash, you take in the scene before you. A fraction of the party game participants crept down the hallway and waited until seven minutes was up. Then they’re ambushing you, ripping the coat closet open and snaking a polaroid camera into the space, capturing whatever they walk into before anyone’s been given the chance to process it. Pairs of wide eyes meet yours, shocked to find out you two were actually getting up to something raunchy in the closet. All their other attempts to catch closet goers in the act were futile - they had either snuck out or were found on separate corners of the confined space arguing.

You’re suddenly mortified - not that you’ve been caught kissing Eddie, but that you've been caught kissing anyone. Your quiet shielded moment will be the talk of the town once the polaroid develops. Rumors travel fast in Hawkins - if that photo gets out you're sure to be labeled a slut overnight, a stark contrast from previously being called other baseless names. You're still wrapped up with Eddie, pressed against his chest even though you've tilted to face the door, now. You feel like a celebrity being spotted by the paparazzi, questions flying at you from all around.

‘Are you guys dating?’, ‘wait I didn’t see? What did they do’, ‘did he do a fucking virgin sacrafice, ‘no way I need to see that photo’. You're still in shock, still not yet fully processing that you were kissing Eddie let alone all the questions bombarding your space. Eddie takes it upon himself to step in front of you. Shielding half your body from questions as he tries to scan for an escape. Avoiding the prying questions purposefully or not. You're panicking, being unsure what to do, push through the crowd of teenagers? There's about eight, couldn't it be too hard? Close the door? But you don’t even need to decide on a plan when you hear the scratchy voice of your best friend in the back of the group. She's honed in on the polaroid that has been passed back, eyes eagerly awaiting the photo to develop. As oohs and awes spread through the group you know your forms are starting to come into view. “Can I see that?” Robin asks, acting like she's part of the group eager to get a view of the scandalizing photo “Thanks!”. She grasps the polaroid tight in her hand and starts booking it down the hallway.

She thanks god that she’s a soccer team captain, stamina from previous grueling drills fueling her as she barrels it down the hall, nearly slamming into the wall while turning the corner. A drunk stampede follows her, shouting for the image, clambering down the hallway but accepting defeat as she disappears into the crowd of dancers in the living room. Clutching hands you and Eddie look at eachother, silently agreeing to follow before you push through following after Robin.

You’re eventually able to catch up to Robin just outside the front door, her hands are braced on her thighs as she bends over, panting as she catches her breath. She wordlessly hands you the slightly crumpled polaroid before Vickie storms out with a plastic water bottle in hand. Handing it to a thankful Robin and rubbing her back as she slowly guzzles it down. Now fully developed, and just slightly crumpled, you examine the polaroid. Thankfully the photo isn’t too scandalizing. Though clearly a candid photo, it's a sweet image of you two in the closet. Motion blur from being taken by unsteady hands makes the photo slightly blurry. But, you can clearly tell it's an image of you both kissing. 

Eventually, the photo can be found taped up on your vanity mirror. It often watches you as you get ready for dates with your boyfriend, Eddie.

[sullustangin]

Fluffy February Day 17 -- Holding Hands

SWTOR

Sometime after Chapter XII of KotFE

Pairing: Theron Shan/Smuggler

~~

“You like doing this, don’t you,” Eva murmured to Theron as they walked past the drop site on Kaas.  Nothing yet.

“Hmmm?” 

“This.  With me.”  Eva gently squeezed Theron’s hand with her own.

Her right hand. 

That had been a welcome development.  Took a couple of terrifying nights to get it, but all the same.  Eva had her hand back.

“Well, we can’t do it on Odessen without the gossip,”  Theron replied, returning her squeeze.  They’d carefully covered up his implants, and he’d slicked his hair back under Imperial barbering regs. 

Eva rolled her eyes.  “Let ‘em talk.”  Eva had completely redone her makeup to fit in with the Nexxus Room crowd, and her outfit was partially lifted from Kaliyo’s closet, with some elements graciously donated by Lana. 

(Eva had sworn to not lose her mother’s bejeweled cuffs – mostly for show, of little value creditwise, but they carried a lot for Lana.  Eva had given Lana a deposit of her mother’s earrings, right of the Thief’s dashboard in exchange.)

“I don’t want it taking attention away from what the Alliance is actually doing—”

Eva cut Theron off.  “Blah blah blah image blah blah scandal, blah blah unprofessional, blah blah blah.”  She batted her eyes at him, the aggressive red eyeliner only adding to the persona she’d adopted for the day.  “Who’s going to give a kriff after the fact?  It’s like looking a gift-bantha in the mouth.”

Theron sighed.  So many times, this argument.  “Well, at least there aren’t as many recriminations after I touch your hand these days.”

“‘Not as many’ is still too many,” Eva quipped, and then she let go of his hand. 

Theron’s head turned to see her greet –

Then electricity shot from her hands.  “KNOW YOUR PLACE!” she screeched at some unfortunate Imp grunt that had been following them too closely – not close enough to hear anything, but enough that Theron had been calculating the nearest dark alley to deal with the problem. 

Well, Eva’s little light show was doing that job for him. 

After the Imp yelped and skittered away, Eva snuggled right up next to him, sliding her hand right back into hers.  “Lana’s mom was much more interesting than she’s let on.  And now I’m completely confident that part of this Force thing is a massive scam.”

Theron let his eyes slide down toward the cuffs in that were now in question.  “Maybe we should warn Koth before he tries to hold her hand in the future.”

“Or maybe not, just for the entertainment factor.”

“…that outfit is making you a mean lady.”

"Well, consider the sourcing."

~~

@fluffyfebruary

[dogfishmonger]

Clutch

A story by @dogfishmonger

With art by @dolgoyangi

Coming to @deancashorrorfest in October.

Rating: M Relevant warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply; non-graphic underage content; body horror Word count: Approx. 13,000

Dean is a normal, stable man in his 20s: He has a job. He has a boyfriend of three years, even if they're on the rocks. He has a little brother in pre-law. There are, simultaneously, things in his upbringing that he simply isn't supposed to question: His father's unexplained, undefined trips out of state. His mother's death. The body he once found in the basement. When Sam runs off in search of answers, Dean and Cas head east to find him. But after catching up with him, something's... different. Wrong. Dean and Cas are at odds—again—with Dean believing that Sam is in danger, and Cas suspicious that Sam is the danger. Returning to normalcy will involve more digging into forbidden territory than Dean was ever prepared for Cas to see. In the end, he doesn't even know if it was worth it. They're left with just as many questions as answers, and the answers they do have are ugly, insidious things, glistening oil-spill black and undulating. Excerpt under the cut:

Dean hadn’t had a single dream.  

He felt… fine, actually.  The fear in the depths of his stomach had felt, for days, like grasping a violently vibrating metal handrail.  It buzzed; it almost hurt.  

It hummed, just then.  Unbidden, he thought, it’s almost over.

The Impala was old—made after the iron age of vehicle design, sure, but thankfully well before the partial switch to plastic.  In an affectionate sense, it was a giant aluminum can. 

That is to say: the rain was loud.  

For the first five years they lived in Ashmer, the house had a tin roof.  It was built in the 1890s or something, back when people still did that shit.  There was a bad storm when Dean was nine or ten, maybe a hurricane, he couldn’t remember.  He just remembered taking Sam down to the basement, where they weren’t allowed to go, where there was still a stain on the concrete floor. 

When they came back up in the morning, a tree had fallen into the kitchen. 

The roof got redone. 

They made it from to the old house in relatively short time.  Ashmer was similar to a lot of towns in the hollers of northern Appalachia: you were in the forest, and then the trees cleared out and you were in a town.  It was small, both in terms of population and geography. 

As for the house, it was empty.  Either it just happened to be empty, or it had remained empty ever since the Winchesters had left.  People in the mountains tended to drift toward the superstitious.  Dean wouldn’t be surprised if the house had taken on a sort of Boo Radley mantle.   John had disappeared temporarily on the regular, and only once, when it was time for the finale, permanently.  DHHR had come, the police had come, cleaners had come.  The details weren’t widely available, but people had to know.  There was something wrong with that house.  There had been something wrong with the boys who had lived in it. 

So, Dean didn’t doubt that no one had moved in.  

Cas said something, but it sounded just like the low rumble of heavy June rain.  Dean was still tired, syrupy and nebulous; it was like he’d been cut loose, like all his adrenaline had been burned off at the state border.

He hadn’t expected that. 

Cas said something again.  Dean just let it wash over him, warm and familiar and laving.  Cas sounded calm almost all the time. 

Dean felt Cas’ hand on his arm, and a half-moment later, the car rolled to a gentle stop.  

“We’re here,” Cas said.  

Here, Dean repeated to himself.  Here as in Ashmer, or— He tried his hardest to make out what lay beyond the dashboard.  The headlights were on, but it was exceedingly, impressively dark outside.  The rain beat down in solid-looking sheets.  There was something there, vaguely person-shaped, somewhat shrunken, maybe just hunched. 

“I think that’s your brother on the porch.”

[pun-demon]

Hey so I know this might sound silly but if you used to enjoy neopets, please consider picking it up again! Yes, an unfortunate amount of the site is still broken due to the death of flash player, but to be completely honest with you: for me it's the same energy requirement as scrolling any other social media without, yknow, being social media (at least by today's standards). Even if your dashboards and for you pages are perfectly curated, I realized I still felt the lingering specter of Bad Shit, which I would normally put up with just so I have something that easily micro-doses me dopamine. But you know what else does that? The fucking Pyramids card game. 😆

Here's some casual facts I was happy to learn upon returning:

The amount of pets you can own has increased! You can have up to six, but if you're willing to pay a microtransaction you can have theoretically all of them, Pokémon-style! It stuns me they didn't consider that back in the 2000s.

A lot of the site has been redone to be mobile-friendly, including a lot of flash games! You will still use classic neopets a lot, because they're prioritizing the games section and key pages like inventory before renovating anything else, but even that runs fine on my several-years-old Galaxy. Shit, I'm curious so I might try running it on my Switch or 3DS...

There's mobile games that are designed from the ground up for phones that are available now and allow you to send earned neopoints and rewards to your account (1 available, and 3 apps appear to be in development)! Currently only Tales of Dacardia, AN ANIMAL CROSSING CLONE, is available, but come on, that would have blown child me's mind! Faerie's Hope, a simple Puyo-Puyo clone, is also on the way, as is World of Neopets, which may just be the next evolution of the website.

Anyway I literally forgot I was making this post because I went to check something and the new plot sent me on a scavenger hunt. Give it a try, and hit me up if you do! 😉

[pixiel]

I have redone the code! v16.27 (god that number) now has functional time on the dashboard and blogview pages but NOWHERE ELSE (yet) and YES that does include people using Xkits timeformat - I also added an option to change the font size of the time

Still have to finish myblog, drafts, notes, communities, and the queue! Then the bugfixes and a few changes to the search pages.

SO chrome just shit itself and ate all of the lovely new code I have been working on the past couple days...... I wish I was joking.... I have to redo the goddamn blogpages since I didn't publish it. It was literally done.

[czentrix1]

C-Zentrix Call Center Software

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Redone Dashboards — Tweak what specialists see during a call to incorporate precisely exact thing makes the biggest difference to your business

Call Directing — Get approaching client calls to the right specialists with a programmed call dispersion framework (ACD)

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Worldwide Voice Affirmation — Utilize nearby phone abilities to ensure you can be heard and figured out around the world

Which Software Is Best for a Call Center Software? Eventually, the best Call Center Solution and programming are the ones that serve your business best. At the point when your representatives have the devices they need in a stage that is not difficult to utilize, they can convey better support of your clients. More joyful and more drew in clients, thusly, can expand your pipeline, make deals cycles short, and work with more fulfillment with conveyance. There are significantly more advantages to picking the right call place programming, including:

Controlling programming costs

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3. Empowering all the more first-call answers for your clients

[sserpente]

A/N: *places a box of tissues on your dashboard* Yeah, um, you might, um… you might need these, I’ll just… um, I’ll just leave these here.

Words: 3265 Warnings: SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 1 OF LOKI, angst and fluff, depictions of Loki’s “death” in IW

“They captured a Loki Variant.” Five words. Five words to turn your whole world upside down—again. Tilting your head, silently panicking, you allowed your lips to part and jumped up from your chair as if stung by an adder.

Casey, bless the poor soul’s heart, dropped the stack of documents he was carrying and onto the desk, knocking over the coffee mug in the process. The black liquid spilled all over the paperwork that would now have to be redone and yet, you could not care less.

You ran. With your heart in your mouth, you ran as if your life depended on it, praying to God, the Norns, whoever was out there, that Renslayer would not have him reset. But at the very moment you practically threw yourself into the elevator, shaking and on the verge of tears already, you almost bumped straight into Mobius.

“(Y/N),” he said, feigning surprise, “I was looking for you.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You spat.

“How did you find out?”

“News travels extraordinarily fast through the TVA, you know.” Mobius’ smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I was coming to get you right now, actually. Come with me. He won’t be reset, yet.” He added. Yet. Gnashing your teeth, you clenched your fists, unclenched them, clenched them… as the elevator went further and further down the TVA to wherever Mobius had brought him.

Loki…

Depression had been hovering above you like a thunderstorm for the past years. A dark, almost black cloud scaring away any happy thoughts your mind could possibly harbour. You barely remembered what it felt like to be happy. Not after Loki died—all you could still recall were happy memories. Memories of a time where the God of Mischief would carry you around like a bride, where you would laugh together, play-fight together, read together, cuddle and be intimate.

Your lower lip trembled, your hand reaching for the golden wedding ring on your finger. It had been the happiest moment of your life and then a megalomaniac titan with brain damage had taken it all from you in but a heartbeat.

“Is it really true?” You uttered absentmindedly. “I’m not dreaming?��

“It’s true, (Y/N). It’s him.”

“How?”

“You’ll catch up. He’s in there.” When the elevator doors opened and he led you through to an interrogation room you were only all too familiar with, your heart was ready to leap right out of your chest.

And then you saw him. Standing there as if he owned the place and at the very same time, only all too eager to get out of here. His raven hair was a little shorter but his face was still the same, his blue eyes captivating you, drawing you in, making you forget everything around you. Everything but him.

He really was here.

“Loki…” Hot tears burned in your eyes, worsening your sight. Your emotions washed over you like a tidal wave, as if someone had flicked a switch and taken all that grief from you at once. Crying, sobbing, you threw yourself into his arms, hugging him so tightly your limbs were shaking and as you buried your face in his neck, his raven hair tickling your skin, inhaling his heavenly scent—metal, leather, a deep-green forest, ice—his name left your lips like a prayer, over and over again as if you needed to convince yourself that this was indeed real. He was real. He was back. Your Loki, your husband, was alive.

In the past, Loki had come to enjoy your physical affection. The God of Mischief was touch-starved, even if he would never admit it. He would show you instead, wrap his arms around you and press you even closer to his body, his hands exploring your curves and every inch of skin they could find. You had spent hours entangled with each other, breathing together in utter silence and bathing in the other’s presence.

But now, Loki stiffened and eventually, pushed you away from him, looking you straight in the eye.

“Who are you?”

Your lips parted, tears still streaming down your face. You gaped at him with wide eyes, your breathing shallow.

“W-what? Loki… Loki, it’s me.”

The God of Mischief tilted his head, squinting his eyes at you with parted lips. You turned to Mobius, your whole body shaking like leaves in the wind.

“W-why… why doesn’t he recognise me? What did you do to him?”

Mobius gave you an apologetic smile. “We haven’t done anything. He… he hasn’t met you yet, (Y/N).”

“What?” Loki narrowed his eyes at him and then, almost outraged, he focused his gaze back on you.

“Look, Loki… Why don’t you sit back down?”

Warily, the God of Mischief obeyed, his blue eyes watching you both like a hawk. Mobius pointed at the empty chair next to his and you sat down as well, leaning back and crossing your arms before your chest in a desperate attempt to keep your hands from trembling.

“Are you going to tell me who you are now?” Loki asked, mimicking your body language. Impatience was swinging in his smooth voice, the voice you had fallen asleep to every single night… more tears. You suppressed another sob.

“L-Loki… I’m your wife.”

He flinched back as if you had suggested you were a Skrull. He took a moment, pondering over your words and then… then he laughed.

“What is this? Another trick? A pathetic game in the hopes of getting me to comply? First, you wish to make me believe that I was not supposed to escape to not offend the sacred timeline…” He mocked. “And now you are telling me that I married a Midgardian of all people? This is absurd.”

When was he? What did he escape from? You had met Loki in New York years after his failed attempt to take over the planet and shortly before Hela had taken the lives of countless innocent people in a vengeful attempt to return to her what she had lost in her exile.

“Besides…” Loki eyed you up and down in a scornful manner. “I have seen more beauty on Asgard.”

Tears stung in your eyes, your heart clenching painfully. You knew what he was doing, of course. You knew this man better than you knew yourself. He would try and hurt you, try and hurt Mobius, try and hurt everyone around him—all to distract from his own pain. Hearing him say things like this still broke your heart, especially upon remembering how he had whispered how you were the most beautiful woman he had ever met into your ear one day, hugging you from behind when you got ready for a shared dinner, putting on those green earrings he had gifted you—crystals from Vanaheim, he had said. You still wore them, never took them off even when you slept… much like your wedding ring.

“M-maybe I should… wait outside.”

“No, it’s okay,” Mobius said, fumbling with the projector and pressing a few keys. “Maybe this will freshen up your memory.”

“Mobius, what are you doing?”

“It’s okay.” He repeated.

“No… You can’t… you can’t show him his tape.” It’ll break him, you added silently.

“It’s not his tape, (Y/N). It’s yours.”

“No…” But he pressed “Play” nonetheless. “Mobius, no!”

“I am Loki. You may have heard of me…” Loki’s charming voice echoed through the speakers, making you flinch.

“Everyone has heard of you…” You replied cheekily. You glanced at the screen, seeing yourself smiling up at him. The images changed and you found yourself on Sakaar, holding a dagger to your chest.

“I swear, I’ll beat you next time!” You laughed, panting. Loki pressed you against the wall, holding your wrists above your head—his lips only inches from yours.

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” Loki replied with a wink, playfulness swinging in his smooth voice. “You are improving, my love.” The scene changed once more and this time, it showed Loki and Thor on a spaceship.

“So, uh… are you going to tell me about (Y/N), brother?” Loki scoffed and rolled his eyes, albeit unable to hide the genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“There is nothing to tell.”

“Oh, there isn’t?” Thor grinned. “It doesn’t look like nothing though.” Loki raised his eyebrows at him. The real Loki, sitting right in front of you, stared at the screen with parted lips, unable to believe what he was hearing.

“I can’t believe it, my brother, the God of Mischief fell in love with a mortal.”

“I am not in love with her.” You smiled at the memory. You still remembered eavesdropping that night. Oh, he hadn’t told you yet—but he had been stealing kisses. Countless kisses.

“You should tell her how you feel, brother.”

“She’s head over heels for you, man,” Korg added as he walked past, carrying Meek on his arm.

“If she loves you just the way you are… she’s… special.” Thor frowned—and it was quite possibly the wisest thing he had ever said; this one piece of advice Loki, for once, had taken to his heart.

The scene changed again.

“I love you, (Y/N). More than anything. I am not letting you go again.”

“You don’t have to,” you responded, “I’m not leaving. I love you too.” You suppressed a sob when Loki went on one knee and materialised a golden ring decorated with green jewels in his hands.

“Stay with me, forever. Will you be my wife?”

“Yes! Yes! Oh, Loki, yes!” You heard yourself squeal, happy tears streaming down your face as you threw yourself into his arms and then, after a passionate kiss, allowed him to slip the golden ring on your finger. The real you fingered it then, seeking comfort. You did not miss Loki’s curious glance at your hand.

Another change of scene. A massive hall, of sorts, decorated with dozens of red roses. In the middle of the room, a dance floor. Loki, wearing his full Asgardian attire including his horns swirled you around like it was the last time you’d ever get to dance together, his blue gaze never leaving your form enveloped in a green wedding dress. You only had eyes for each other, barely noticing there were dozens of wedding guests watching you both.

The tears were streaming down your face uncontrollably now, the joy you had felt that day mixing with grief and the excruciating pain his loss had brought. You knew what would follow next. Your smile faltered.

“Turn it off.” You pleaded. “Mobius, turn it off!”

The senior manager only took a deep breath, his hand not even moving back to the projector.

The scene changed one last time and you were standing in midst of a pile of debris and dead bodies.

“I love you.” Loki mouthed, materialising a dagger behind his back.

You watched yourself standing there, screaming and crying and unable to stop the titan from suffocating Loki like a dying tree in a forest slowly turning into a dry desert.

“Look away, (Y/N)!” Thor’s voice was dull, miles away.

You saw yourself dropping to your knees, breaking apart, and you saw yourself howling like a banshee when Thor had to drag you away from Loki’s corpse so you’d still have a chance to live.

Death would have been mercy at that moment, you remembered wanting to die so well. Thanos had been particularly cruel with you, making you watch him draining the life out of Loki after all of your pleas, after all of your begging, choking him to death slowly until his neck snapped.

You couldn’t watch this any longer, not again. Your heart would burst, shatter into a million pieces. Only your willpower and your body’s persistence to survive still held it together and the pain you felt upon seeing the man you loved eye you dirtily like a stranger, seeing him in utter shock upon watching you cry over him, was no longer just unbearable. It was suffocating you.

Choking on your tears, you stood back up, knocking over the chair in the process. You did the only thing you had the power to do here in the TVA—so you ran. You bolted out of the room and ran through endless hallways, past Minutemen, hunters and busy TVA workers. Had you stayed only a few heartbeats longer, you would have noticed the tears glistening in Loki’s eyes.

-

An hour must have passed. You had returned to your unit, wailing your eyes out and drowning in self-pity. Part of you longed to run back to Loki, to keep your arms wrapped around his middle, to tell him how much you loved him, how much you had missed him. But this Loki… this Loki didn’t even know who you were. He was still your Loki—that charming and mischievous god who was so broken beneath the surface, so hurt and melancholic—but this Loki didn’t love you, not yet. It was the cruellest torture of them all.

There was a soft knock on the door. Probably a hunter wanting to check on you, making sure you were not up to any mischief. They kept a close eye on you, knowing who you were married to in the sacred timeline. Imagine the surprise on your face when the door opened carefully and Loki was let into the room, his blue eyes darting around frantically in an attempt to detect any immediate danger.

He took a deep breath when he spotted you curled up in your bed and hugging your knees to your chest. You could swear you saw Mobius’ arm pulling the door shut behind him and then… you were alone.

One heartbeat passed, then two. Three. Another two. Loki took a step forward, eyeing you curiously. After another moment, he finally spoke. “How did you end up here?”

“I tore the very fabric of reality apart trying to find you. Trying to undo what… the Avengers could do it. So why couldn’t I? I spent weeks travelling through time, searching for tiny holes in the timeline to get you out, to change the outcome and keep you alive… but the TVA found out, of course. They took me here for the same reason they took you—for crimes against the sacred timeline. Mobius let me live because…” Because? You were not so sure anymore. But you realised now that he had suspected that Loki would sooner or later find a way to mess with his alleged fate and that you would be able to help with keeping him in line. You refused to grant him this triumph though. “Well, I’m still here.”

Loki tore his gaze away from you, feigning interest in what little furniture your unit had to offer. “I never believed myself to fall in love… let alone get married.”

“You told me that before.” You uttered, your sad smile not quite reaching your eyes. Loki swallowed.

“I take it Mobius means for us to share your accommodation.” He looked around and it truly was a cliché—for there was only one queen-sized bed in the room. For months, day in and out, you wished for nothing more than for him to sleep by your side again, your head on his chest, his arm around your waist, and to fall asleep listening to his heartbeat. Now, it felt anything but awkward to invite him into your bed, yet at the very same time… it felt like nothing had changed at all.

“You should rest, Loki. It…” You hesitated. “It must have been a long day. Would you like something to drink? Cocoa, maybe?” You offered him a smile.

The sweet chocolate drink was something you kept in your tiny fridge at all times, something that reminded you of him. Loki had a sweet tooth, the sugar helped to calm him down rather than waking him up but when you stood to pour him a glass and handed it to him all but timidly, he only studied it as if there was a possibility it was poisoned.

“You’ve… you’ve never tried it before.” You realised. Loki’s blue eyes met yours. He shook his head.

“Drink it,” you offered, smiling once more. “If you don’t like it, I promise you can drain it down the sink.”

Still a little hesitant, he took a sip—and then another and then another. You giggled. It was the first happy sound that escaped your lips in months.

“You knew I would like this, did you not?” His voice was quiet, soft almost. As if he was scared to startle you, unsure of how to act around the woman he proposed to in a future unknown to him.

“Yes… I did. You love our sweets. Chocolate, candy, ice cream… even liquorice. You always teased me about it, saying I’m missing out… I still hate the taste of it.”

Smiling fondly, your fingertips brushed over your wedding ring—Loki did not fail to notice. He recognised the ring. A long time ago, he had purchased it at a market on Asgard, spending a fortune and swearing to Thor that one day, it would belong to the woman he’d rule alongside with. That was long before he had found out about his true heritage. Long before he had begun to believe that no man or woman would ever love him for what he truly was. A villain. Or so he thought.

Loki finished his cocoa in silence, observing every single one of your movements as you got ready for bed and rearranged the pillows on the mattress so there would be enough space for the both of you. He nodded instead of verbalising his thanks, and when you switched off the lights, you draped your blanket over him—you only had one but while you were only too eager to share it with him, you weren’t quite sure how Loki would feel about it. But you have him back, a quiet voice in your head whispered. Maybe in time… he will love you again.

“I don’t freeze.” He suddenly said.

“I know. But you like being cosy. The warmth, you told me it reminds you of…” You stopped yourself. “Never mind. I’m sorry.”

You inched away from him, unsure of how much body contact he would allow. To you, he was your husband—but to him, you were but a strange Midgardian woman he had never met. A few moments of utter silence followed.

“What now?” He muttered into complete darkness, presumably staring at the ceiling.

“I’m not sure. But I have you back. Loki… I missed you so much.” Your last words were swallowed up by another waterfall of tears, your voice cracking. The God of Mischief breathed in sharply. You could tell he was touched by your unconditional love for him; his suspicion had all but faded upon seeing your tape in the interrogation room, knowing what you had… what you had had or will have had… was indeed real.

You sobbed when he put his arms around you, his affection feeling stranger to him than it did to you.

“We’re gonna get out of here.” You whispered once you had composed yourself. “I am not letting them tell us how our story will end. We’ll burn this place to the ground.”

Loki smiled—you could tell even though it was dark around you, reading his body language so well it should have scared you.

And your heart warmed when you heard him say, “I am beginning to understand why I made you my wife.”

-

A/N: If you’re not crying too much, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me! ♥ ko-fi.com/sserpente

[bbraespam]

✨Season 4: COMPLETE ✨

Hello everyone! Just wanted to make a little post celebrating that WE’VE GOTTEN THROUGH SEASON 4! 💜🥳💚

This does mean that the end of this project is almost in sight, wow! (Especially with s5 being what it is, there are a good amount of episodes with nothing relevant in them, so I’m actually moving pretty fast.)

As of writing this post, the queue has reached where Go! sits in the episode order, but that’s the episode I originally started this blog with. Way back when the dashboard was still 500px wide, and I only had DVD quality and photosets still got notes haha 🥲

I was curious if anyone would want to see those posts redone in better quality, or if I should just move on. If you’re interested, let me know!

[ravenwolfie97]

2021 Art Summary

The time old tradition continues. I’ll be honest; this year was rough. Like, I scraped the bottom of the barrel for most of these months. Very little art was accomplished (or, at least, completed), and I had felt pretty bad about that the last couple months. But, as it turns out, I wasn’t alone in that. Every other artist I’ve seen has said they’ve been in the exact same boat. So I’m glad now that I could do what I could this year. And now, as always, I’ll share my journey through this year with you!

normally i don’t hide these under a readmore but this one kinda got away from me and i wanted to spare your and my dashboards this time

HEY SO remember when i said i would work on my TOME Fan Animations every day all year? hahaha Yeah That Didn’t Happen I spent like ten days out of the month tops, and in that time I really only worked a little bit on storyboards and got almost all of my character’s talksprites redone. And I do like them! But yeah. I honestly don’t even know what will become of that project, if anything, at this point.

In addition to that, I participated yet again in Gotta Draw ‘Em All on deviantArt with Grookey as my muse. What a lil cutie. Sadly, this was the final event for that group, but I’m glad I was there to contribute to it.

I also continued my TOME server’s art challenge tradition of making a TOMERPG character from scratch, and Zeitgeist was born. I just think it’s got a cool design :>

Also! New thing I’m doing for this summary: some WIPs! because I did a lot of them and I’m upset that I didn’t ever get to finish them! So to kick it off here’s one that began in January and was last updated in June: a “six fanarts” part three exclusively for cute girls

okay let’s continue

i’ll tell you right now that this year is comprised of a lot of sketches because digital art was too hard or too time- or energy-consuming, so i tried to make them look really nice this time

This was the height of my Genshin fever, and the only prescription was playing it more and finally attempting to draw and write some stuff with it. Razor was the first actual character I drew, mainly cuz I love him lots, but also cuz I thought his design would lend well to my style. I also made myself a Genshin sona, as well as ones for Michael and Val (not shown cuz i couldn’t get a design figured out for Val at all): Raven (me) is a Hydro sword user, Michael is an Anemo bow user, and Val is a Pyro claymore user. Wanted to try my hand at making my own Genshin-esque designs after having lots of opinions on the actual characters and doing a bunch of edits on some of them.

My Pokemon 25th anniversary pic was late, so it goes in here. I had such a fun time emulating Sugimori’s modern art style... even if it took forever to do.

Also Astra (my nb genshin traveler) got a redesign and I still haven’t made a proper ref for it. But they do look a lot cooler. I drew them at work :>

I wanted to draw more genshin, so I asked for genshin to draw, and I attempted only one. but Venti was a good one. Got into Montero (Call Me By Your Name) too much and got Val vibes, and also watched Queer ✨ too much and loved the bisexual lighting in the third act too much, so. yeah. mix em together and that’s what i got And in a twist of fate, Tales of Lostclan re-entered my brain space because The Creator Found My Post and contacted me about it and we started chatting and it was great so I drew a Pepperpaw gijinka and named him Aiden.

Another WIP I wanted to share was my sketch for another TOME server art challenge, with Zetto in the Zero Escape universe. I really liked the prompt but again, digitization was my enemy this year.

moving on!

These are literally the only two things that happened this month. And they were both pretty late in. Drawing Diluc is easy to explain; I love him and wanted to try and draw him. The other one is much more interesting.

My friend @mew-cake​ started reading To Your Eternity (which later on in the year became an anime), and I enjoyed the bits and pieces she liveblogged. She posted something along the lines of “i wish i could write a story like this” and i was like Hell Yes let’s do it together. So we got to work, making a story I tentatively call Spirit of the Earth about an angel wanting to learn what life on Earth is like so it lives first as a tree, then a bird, then a cat, and then a variety of different humans. My recent fascination with philosophy and the themes Cake found within To Your Eternity inspired us to think on lots of aspects of life and love and hurt, and it was kinda beautiful. We should revisit it sometime.

i lied kind of, i really wanted to get this picture of Xiao done too. but i did not. here is the sketch tho

and even though we were working on one original story, at the very end of the month, there was another idea coming together...

SURPRISE, IT’S A DIFFERENT ORIGINAL STORY. It’s okay, we didn’t expect this either, but it happened anyway.

Cake had been saying that it would be cool for the two of us to be cast as anime rivals, and I was like yeah that would be cool. And then I had the most massive shower thought on that and it spiraled into this story premise. As much as I would love to completely gush about this new story, I wanna still keep most of it under wraps, so I’ll give a basic rundown. The two main characters, the “anime rivals” as they were initially, are Roxy (red/sketch) and Lalun (blue/full color), who have the powers of the Sun and the Moon respectively. In a world full of alchemical magic where many people control elements based on the solar system, Roxy and Lalun are two special cases and they’re being forced to fulfill a cosmic destiny for reasons largely unknown to them. Other characters here include: Alex (purple/sketch) who has the powers of Venus, which in this world corresponds with electricity; and Oliver (green/full color) who has the powers of Saturn, which are oriented with gravity control and telekinesis. These kids all go to school together and get into horrible situations against their will (and even at their will, sometimes). So all in all, it’s a time :3

One day we’ll show off all of our art for this, but for now, I’ll just give ya all the good stuff I did.

ALSO. WIP TIME BECAUSE I AM SO UPSET I NEVER REMEMBERED TO FINISH THIS. I liveblogged about SK8 The Infinity around this time too, and I loved it, and I drew parallels between the two main characters of that show with my two main OCs from The Dark Side: War on Destiny. So I drew Reki and Kyle together being cool bros

okay anyway

My Genshin brainrot has started to fade around now and it’d been replaced with Cosmic Legacy brainrot instead. I just... we loved these kids so much, man. So much cool stuff. Lots of funny filler. A whole bunch of suffering. Y’know. The usual.

I’ll just say it now too that most of August just had a few more Cosmic sketches. Not very much was happening with me creatively, and things were starting to grind me down. And, well... eventually things took a turn, and...

UH WHOOPS I GOT A GIRLFRIEND AND HER NAME IS STACEY AKA @wolf-of-hearts-den​?????

Yeah, that also happened very suddenly. And we both had a lot of feelings to work out. It was a lot, and we couldn’t handle it very well - Stacey especially... considering the fact she had Two Partners now n all... but it all worked out. And all in all, it was an awesome moment, and a great turning point for me.

WIP time helps break up this part of the summary and i’m also pissed i couldn’t get this done in time because it was actually a timely piece. i started to do a 10  year anniversary redraw i’d been planning for Years and chickened out when it came to doing the background. so have this comparison with my Animal Jam OC Ferret for now

okay back to girlfriend um

this was honestly really tough to make hkjbbjlk Since our relationship started pretty late into the last month, our feelings spilled out more into the month after. And Boy Howdy, were there feelings. If I can be a little transparent, being able to freely express sexual feelings and thoughts with someone you trust is literally one of the most wonderful things. It’s just one more thing I don’t have to completely hide, and it feels awesome to be able to tell someone. And to have someone think of you and want you in that way? Absolutely insane. It still boggles my mind that someone can love me the way Stacey does. Honestly incredible.

also it’s not like i didn’t make any non-horny art during that time. they were just the only things i put effort into jklhjkl MOTIVATION HITS WHEN IT HITS, Y’ALL

this isn’t a WIP but it is more cosmic art i can share

ok back to the program. god the art summary is off the rails this year

Among some more girlfriend-related material, Stacey and Cake and I also had an aggie.io session where I drew some of my OCs poorly. Featured here are Sierra from Legends: Children of the Dragons, Mamoru from Cat Devil, and Val... from my brain. He’s just cool.

there was actually very little else than this, and that continued into...

Yeah, barely anything happened this month. The RW ref is only half-finished, and I had meant to get that done in August. But I gave it to someone to actually use as reference here, so it counts, okay?

Here we have an actually decent picture of another Cosmic Legacy character named Mercutio, who’s the not-so-good guy. But he does good things for people. He’s a good father... right?

and then Stacey came up with a game in a dream called Everbound and I had to make at least a mock-up title screen for it. Thank you for getting me to make an art to fill the screen up, babe

Thank God I got the inspiration to finally do that TWEWY self-insert pic only a few days ago, or else this would have been very empty. Additionally we have A Cool Character That Shall Not Be Explained on the right, whom I have added mainly because they are very cool and a piece of art that I completed in this month that I am proud of, as well as another Cool Character that I would be happy to explain about. So Stacey had recently been coming up with their own original story universe thing that’s essentially a radioactive wasteland full of animal mutants and hybrids. It’s mostly an excuse to make rad furry character designs, and I was all in on all of it, so I wanted to try and join in, so I made Calista! She’s a housecat/jellyfish hybrid with the ability to poison and shock people cuz that’s what jellyfish do. Haven’t done much with her, but she was a fun little character design challenge to do if nothing else :>

ANYWAY yeah this year sucked art-wise, but it was a good time regardless. I got a steady full-time job, I got car-driving abilities, and most importantly I have a lovely partner and wonderful friends to keep me sane and feel loved. No matter what happens in this year to come, all I know is I’ll make the most of it, and still find some things to make me happy.

...and maybe i’ll finally get some of those WIPs done OK BYE

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Gorgeous 1950 Bedford/Iveco OB bus was completely restored to a classy motorhome. 

Everything was redone from the dashboard to the back. 

The large sofa converts to a bed. 

It has a stainless steel 4 burner stove and nice deep sink in the kitchen area. A flat screen TV is positioned facing toward the sofa. 

There are curved windows along the top and in the middle, this nice big skylight.

The bathroom has a pretty big sink w/vanity and look at the shower. 

In addition to the fold down sofa, there’s a bed in the back. Isn’t this classy?

There are only 180 of these buses left today, and only 70 of them are in running order. Isn’t it amazing?

https://www.catawiki.com/

[servicefolderr]

Best Project Management Software Tools

Once the preserve of large corporations with big budgets and specialized staff, tools for running projects of all shapes and sizes are now widely available. Whether you're an individual or small business looking to keep track of a few projects, a multibillion-dollar company with a project portfolio to match, or anything in between, it's now possible to find cloud-based project management tools designed with you in mind.

Many have free plans with limited features to get you started, and nearly all are based around a monthly subscription model. After that, there are almost as many pricing options as there are different features, but most organizations will be able to find a tool that fits within their budget.

We've tracked down the best project management tools and service scheduling software available on the market today, no matter the size of your team, project, or bank balance.

Trello

Based around the kanban card-based administration framework, Trello's basic interface and liberal complementary plan makes it the best spot for people and little groups to begin with essential task the executives.

Maybe than customary devices intended for overseeing assets and following advancement towards a particular end date, kanban-based applications like Trello are all the more freestyle and adaptable.

You can oversee both individual activities and progressing work processes similarly well, and the board and card illustrations are straightforward. There's a lot of force in the engine, with cards ready to incorporate pictures and connected records, hyperlinks, custom dropdowns, due dates, and bounty more.

Whenever you're done with a specific card or a whole board, it tends to be documented to conceal it from day by day see while as yet being open if necessary later on.

The fundamental complementary plan incorporates limitless clients and cards, up to 10 sheets, and only one "Catalyst" (i.e., mix with different administrations) per board. Its limitless stockpiling is confined to 10 megabytes for every record. Paid plans start at $10 each month, with less or no limitations.1

There's extremely restricted revealing incorporated into Trello, and albeit outsider expansions add more alternatives, you'll probably still have to look somewhere else whenever nitty gritty reports are a significant necessity. For every other person, in any case, Trello is an incredible spot to begin with project the executives. It's accessible on the web, versatile, and work area.

BEST FOR SPEEDY SETUP

Wrike

In case Trello's methodology appears to be somewhat restricted, however you don't have hours to commit to learning and setting up an intricate venture the board apparatus, it's an ideal opportunity to look at Wrike.

Standard undertaking the executives highlights like Gantt graphs, helpful dashboards, and a far reaching detailing suite are underlying, and getting going on a little to medium-sized task should be possible rapidly without learning every one of the intricate details of another, muddled framework.

A period following device is inherent, accessible to both the individual chipping away at a specific undertaking and whoever is dealing with the venture all in all. Like those found in other undertaking the board devices, it's anything but a swap for a devoted time frame global positioning framework however effectively handles most fundamental necessities.

The interface is useful, and keeping in mind that it could do with somewhat of a visual revive, it is fine for the work. The free arrangement offers task the executives, intuitive sheets and bookkeeping pages, a record wide plan for getting work done device, cloud combinations (Google Drive, OneBox, Box, OneDrive), and two gigabytes of complete extra room for limitless clients.

Paid plans are a touch more costly than a portion of the opposition however open up the entirety of the product's alternatives, beginning with shareable dashboards, intelligent Gantt graphs, and usefulness combinations like MS Projects at the Professional level ($9.80 each month per client); and adding custom work processes, continuous reports, time following, salesforce coordination, and five gigabytes of capacity for every client at the Business level ($24.80 each month per client). Wrike is accessible on the Web, alongside iOS and Android application versions.2

Headquarters

A veteran of the task the board world, Basecamp was dispatched in 2004 and has assembled a client base of 3.5 million users.34

The product makes a big deal about its capacity to supplant a few other paid month to month administrations, from Slack to Dropbox. While it's not generally a total substitution, the product takes a significant number of the highlights of those instruments and folds them all into one framework. Planning and schedules, ongoing visit, private informing, document stockpiling, and more are incorporated.

A cleaned up interface and amazing hunt devices make it clear to discover the undertaking, picture, or message you're after, and a solid announcing suite releases you as wide or profound as required.

Working with customers is taken care of well, with email mix and the capacity to impart singular undertakings and messages to individuals outside the association. Notices can be redone to your necessities, including closing them off external available time.

Headquarters' fixed $99 each month estimating makes it an engaging alternative for bigger associations, however little groups might discover better worth somewhere else. There's no free arrangement, however the length of the 30-day preliminary is more liberal than most. Web, work area, and portable adaptations are available.5

Zoho Projects

Part of a wide set-up of usefulness instruments from a similar organization, Zoho Projects has virtually every one of the standard highlights you'd anticipate from a venture the executives application, at an especially reasonable cost.

Assignments are visible in either kanban or more customary styles, with conditions ready to be set between each errand. Instruments like issue and work process the executives, Gantt diagrams, and tweaked revealing mean the device can deal with even somewhat complex task necessities. There's additionally solid joining with different administrations, both Zoho's own set-up of applications, and those from significant players like Google and Microsoft.

Fundamental time following is underlying, and in spite of the fact that it doesn't supplant a devoted following instrument, there are sufficient highlights included to make it valuable. Reaching other venture colleagues should be possible through the inherent visit application, which saves leaping out to outer devices like email or Slack.

The complementary plan is restricted to three clients, with only 10 megabytes of capacity and two undertakings. It's adequate for little undertakings or figuring out the product, in any case, and the entirety of the paid plans are accessible on a 10-day preliminary. Different plans which take into account all the more clients, more undertakings, and more stockpiling start range from $5 per client to $10 per client, and you can save 20% whenever charged every year. Both Web and portable adaptations of Zoho Projects are available.

LiquidPlanner

LiquidPlanner is one of those bits of programming that attempts to be numerous things to many individuals, and in contrast to most others with such stupendous desires, it by and large succeeds.

As well as being an amazing method of running customary undertakings, with every one of the highlights you'd expect, LiquidPlanner performs similarly well as a helpdesk-style issue tracker and general asset the executives apparatus.

Solid announcing is implicit, alongside joining with significant distributed storage suppliers. There's likewise Zapier support, so you can assemble your own mechanized associations with other business devices as needed.7

One-off bits of work can be doled out to any client or bunch, and the effect of that additional work on individuals performing it is naturally considered when assessing project expectations.

With additional highlights comes additional intricacy, obviously, and keeping in mind that LiquidPlanner works really hard of clarifying a portion of its trickier angles and afterward moving, it actually requires a more noteworthy time venture to set up, learn, and ace than a significant number of its rivals. Consequently — also the expense — it's more qualified to bigger groups and associations than little, specially appointed gatherings.

LiquidPlanner doesn't offer a complementary plan, despite the fact that you can preliminary different designs for about fourteen days. Plans start at $29 each month per client (with yearly charging) for a limit of 50 ventures, and go up from there.

Microsoft Project

Microsoft Project has been around since 1984 of every some structure, it's as yet the favored instrument of many experienced undertaking administrators. With its higher estimating and steep expectation to learn and adapt, it's especially focused on those answerable for exceptionally huge, complex ventures who have the skill, time, and spending plan to take advantage of this extensive device.

MS Project closely resembles other Microsoft Office applications, yet with few instructional exercises or clues, it tends to be overwhelming for novices to the undertaking the board space. Prepared experts, in any case, will see the value in the amazingly granular detail accessible for each errand and asset, regardless of whether that asset is a particular individual, job, actual material, or something different.

Detailing is likewise strong, with both pre-fabricated and adjustable reports that can be immediately traded to Microsoft PowerPoint for those unavoidable administration rundowns. Reconciliation with non-Microsoft apparatuses is restricted, be that as it may.

MS Project can be attached onto a current Office 365 membership, a few distinctive value focuses, or bought as an oddball piece of programming to be introduced on a solitary PC.

In 2021, Microsoft dropped the layered naming show of Essentials, Professional, and Premium and supplanted it with Project Plan 1, Project Plan 3, and Project Plan 5, leaving the larger part plan highlights unaltered. Highlights vary between levels, yet membership costs for Plan 3 (previously Professional) start at $30.

Cooperation Projects

In the event that you've at any point been dismayed by the sheer intricacy of utilizing a completely fledged venture the board framework, it's definitely worth investigating Teamwork Projects. Regardless of its full list of capabilities, the application's interface is clear and simple to utilize, working effectively of surfacing valuable data without tossing unlimited records and complex graphs at its clients.

Undertakings are distinguishable as kanban sheets or customary records, and the reasonable menu choices assist with staying away from the need to burrow through numerous screens to discover the detail you need.

[the-headbop-wraith]

3 _ 43 _ Rekindling

  As ever when all was well and right the garage was a cacophony of sounds, from hydraulics humming off the rotary lifts and power drills, to the squeal of impact wrenches. Each car port had one vehicle tended to, with a technician toiling away with the task of repairing or renovating an assigned vehicle. Outside, the carport had more automobiles parked up with numbers slipped onto dashboards.

 On the work floor, Uncle Lance was lending an extra pair of arms to the diagnostic work of a utility van, a lot more teched out than his usual forte of labor. However, a tech savvy guy was left to the task of breezing through the more specialized work of the Bluetooth incorporated hardware. This was not the issue it was brought in for, but double-checking the software was procedural. The undercarriage of the vehicle needed a total overhaul and realignment, a time-consuming task.

  Familiar barking rang through the garage.

“Gimmie a moment,” he grunted, to the operator in the passenger seat. He moved back from the open driver side of the van and cast his view across the open floor of the garage. There he was, a black and white streak trotting around supply carts, head held high like he carried an important purpose. In tow was Vivi, momentarily preoccupied by the phone in her hand, and some sort of satchel was draped over her shoulder.

 “A bit early, are yu?” he posed. Lance took the end of the rag pinned to his pro-wrestler belt and rubbed some of the grim off his fingers.

 “Work rooms locked,” Vivi replied. “Is he in today?”

 “Course.” Lance nodded toward the direction of his office. “Shouldn’t be too long, ‘e’s meetin’ with a ‘‘client’’.” He did air quotes.

 “Ooh,” Vivi groaned. They moved off the work field and relocated to the wall, beside where empty boxes from parts were stacked. “How do they keep finding him?”

 Uncle Lance shrugged. “People post them pics to ‘em nosey sites, and they git the info where’n he works. Ye’know, that societal medium thing.”

 “Social media?”

 Mystery yipped, frowning behind his spectacles. This was very tiresome, tedious, and tumdum.

 “Whatever ya call it. Nuisance, they are – dragging him off work.” Lance grumbled under his breath some phrase, which might’ve been a curse or a Curse. “Think they’re them first to come by, offerin’ this biggest, best deal. Arthur could git ah’lot done with them gadgets, but I understand his privacy is important.”

 Vivi set the satchel down on one of the boxes, and looked the way to the doors to Uncle Lance’s office. “It’s not so much the anonymity he wants, but the builds and designs… they’re not, how do I say? General public applicable.”

 “Applicable-micable,” Lance mumbled.

 “Even the housing for the collar to shoulder hookup is specialized.” Vivi leaned over and rubbed Mystery’s head. “Eventually, he might try for a patent, but the models… even the college is thirsting over the incorporation. Anyway, it’s his business.”

 Lance took a deep breath and sighed. “Yer right. Pisses me off still, need tu get a sign out there. Pisses me off, ‘ee’s too nice.”

 Vivi leaned up rummaged through the satchel, revealing bags with containers. She selected a small box and handed it over. “You seem more, um… gruff than usual. Everything okay?”

 Lance popped the lid and examined the small treat within. “We’re backlogged fer parts, work is comin’ through, and I got fancy suits in mah office tryin’ be clever. An’ I gotta get through the client list, before thay start callin’ me.” When Arthur strolled over, he raised up the little food box. An unspoken gesture fortifying break.

 “I can work some over time,” Arthur began. His arm was not attached. “An hour or something, just to get some of these vehicles prepped for the morning shift.” Lance whipped around to face him fully and squared up his shoulders.

 “Arthur. When five o’clock rolls around, the doors close and the shift winds down.” He waved the food box like a school teacher threatening their student with the ruler, and probably a firm algebra lesson. “No one, and no one ever built a better car while exhausted.”

 Arthur rolled his eyes, “But—”

 “I dun car with how enthused yu are, there’s a chasm in the ground to distinguish between work and recharge time. Your brains a battery, and batteries need recharge – or they get replaced. Aw’right?” Lance jabbed at Arthur’s chest, getting the point across the way Lance did when he was cross. “Down time is still werk, yu werk hard restin’. It’s important.”

 Arthur droned out, “Yus, Uncle Lance.”

 Vivi swooped in and threw an arm around Arthur’s shoulders. “And that’s why we’re gatherin’ at my place. Nothing but ‘no doing’ going on there. No cars, or parts, or pieces to tinker with.” Arthur nearly tumbled but Vivi kept him upright. “Complete bores-ville.”

 A thin smile tugged at Arthur’s cheeks. “Whatever you say.”

 Lance nodded, as if he won an argument – which he probably did. “Yu see to that.” He was about to move away, but leaned back toward the two. “Ah, and no work on the van, either.” Then, he took his leave.

 Arthur stuttered and quivered as his Uncle left. “But… the tools need to be reconditioned, or they might turn against it!” Vivi pulled him by the collar, hauling him off. On the way, she grabbed the satchel off the boxes.

 “You can still look at it. They did a fine job, you’ll never know it was crushed once they get the paint redone—”

 A distant roar bellowed out from the owner’s office, “WHAT?!”

 “Exaggeration!” Vivi hooted back. “C’mon Art, nourishment awaits!”

 Arthur hadn’t gotten his feet squared off or organized, he skipped on his heel as she dragged him across the work room. “Whoa, hold up! Vi! Mercy! Mercy!”

 The Mystery Skulls van sat at the back of Kingsman Mechanics, the location used primarily by delivery and staff parking. In the lead paced Mystery, with Vivi and the screaming Arthur trailing. Once Arthur spied the vehicle with its refurbished side, he magically regained his balance and began leading Vivi by her sweater. He had stars in his eyes, for once.

 “Oh wow, you can hardly tell it was crushed.” Arthur’s phone chimed, and when he stopped dragging the blue girl to fish the device from his vest pocket to check the screen. The message read:

 “WHAT?!??!?!?!?!?!?”

 Arthur coughed and texted back.

 Beside the van, Vivi raised the hand holding the packages. “I dunno, it might be more seamless when we get the new paint done.” She posed beside the side, arms flung high. “I can’t wait to see the design.”

 Arthur cringed down, with a grin. He slipped the phone back into its pocket. “Yeah, can’t wait to show off the new colors. Hmm.” He looked aside.

 Off and away from the two, Mystery was sniffing around the parking lot. Once he gave the clear, he barked and rejoined his colleagues.

 “And look, we got windows in the back now.” Vivi escorted Arthur to the aforementioned updates, showing the windows. “Surprise!”

 Arthur gaped. “Oh, awesome. Now we can witness the angry mob chasing us out of town.”

 Vivi waved a finger. “Don’t forget, the creepy monsters we can’t deal with. Won’t that be fun?”

 “Ooh-dles.” The back doors swept open, and Arthur retreated back five steps.

 Lewis leaned out. “You guys are really loud.”

 Arthur shuffled over to the doors and examined the fitted panel. “One way?”

 “And reinforced,” Vivi chimed. She handed off the satchel to Lewis. “Is it okay?”

 Arthur shrugged. “I’m not opposed to it. Hey Lew.”

 “Sup.”

 Inside the van and along both walls laid long, flat boxes. The label read industrial shelving, and one was already opened. Metal bars and packing sheets littered the floor. On the end of one box, Lewis set out the food cartons from the package.

 “I’m gunna miss the cuvees,” Arthur mentioned. Vivi was busy wiping his hand off with a rag and some ninety-nine, even though he didn’t work on the floor since his meeting.

 “Yeah,” she hummed. “But we lost inventory, and stuff would get crammed in the back and forgotten. We never cleaned them.”

 He toed one of the boxes with his sneaker. “I’ll modify these, so nothing goes flying off while you’re driving.” Lewis had relocated to the front seat and snorted, a little flame curled off his shoulder. “Someone did bring in catering today. You didn’t have to come abduct me.”

 Vivi was already digging in, eating some chicken with sauce. “I wanted to show off the van. And we had to dump it off anyway, so you can load up supplies.” She pulled over the portable ice chest and popped the lid. “You gunna be able to do that on your own?”

 There was no sound, but Arthur did catch the faint movement of Lewis as he glanced over the bench seat. “Yeah, I’ll be good. I didn’t feel like wearing it today.” He leaned over and snagged a drink from the cooler, the ice was melting and the canister damp. “I was replacing a servo and Gally, bless his hamster instincts, decided to gnaw through the circuit board.”

 Vivi nearly choked. “He what?! Is he okay?” Mystery had curled up beside her, and raised his head, horrified. “He’s usually such a good helper.”

 “Yeah. I must’ve fucked up the current or something. He hates that.”

 Mystery rested his chin back onto his paws. Yeah, that sucks. Arthur made that mistake once before, and it turned Galahad into a round fluff.

 While they ate, Vivi pulled out a notepad and wrote out what equipment they could use tonight. Their meetup wasn’t directly off the work lane, there would be movies and not much else going on but ignoring the movies – or complaining how unrealistic the movies were. For the most part, she wanted to discuss more work centered stuff, and perhaps do something about the cluttered closet that held predominately junk stuff. She insisted on using the words ‘stuff’ and ‘things’ without remorse.

 There was likewise a separate list for movies they could stream or buy, or pirate.

 “You can put more down,” Arthur mentioned, as he tried to work through the veggies someone insisted he have. “Uncle’ll help me. He’ll be working late tonight.”

 “Lemme get this straight,” Lewis spoke, “he won’t let you work overtime, but he will.”

 “It’s his business. He can do whatever he wants,” Arthur retorted. “And people had better not start seeing your spooky shadow ‘round. We get enough problems with jackasses showing up trying to get copycrap over my spec designs, I don’t want Spectral Seekers showin’ up, harassing Uncle Lance for a crummy show.”

 Lewis leaned back over the bench seat. “I was bored, okay?”

 “Bored?!” Arthur spat. “Was that today, or when—”

 Mystery barked.

 “Art! It’ll be fine,” Vivi proclaimed. “That was one time, we figured it out. After this, we’re goin’ straight back to my place to set up. Cool?”

 Arthur made a face and deflated. He poked at his food and sipped his drink, but just a bit. He avoided raising his eyes or checking the front of the van. “Hmm. Yeah. We’ll just… the guys need to stay focused.”

 Lewis hunched down in his seat. “I wasn’t tryin’ to be a ‘presence’, it’s hard being all cooped up.”

 Arthur fixed his legs, readjusting them along with his hunched posture. “Sure. I get that.”

 Once everyone got settled, or stewing, Vivi relaxed and resumed poking at a salad. That wasn’t too bad, but she wondered if it was always like this, or when this all started. They were talking again, the progress was slow but any amount she appreciated. Then again, maybe it wasn’t them. Maybe it was… her.

 Before the break could be called a success, Vivi helped Arthur bring down one of the boxes packed with equipment and stowed it in the van. The spare bike was stashed in the van, and Lewis helped Vivi pull her eco-friendly, short distance transport out before he evaporated in a plume of flames. Likely, to attach himself to the flashlight stored in the side pocket of her backpack. She clicked on the light to confirm for Arthur, Lewis wasn’t hanging around.

 “Let me know if you’re running late or anything comes up,” she stated, while Arthur double checked that the van was secure and latched tight.

 “I’ll remember,” Arthur replied. They said farewells, and he returned to the garage of Kingsman Mechanics, with Mystery by his side.

 The remainder of Arthur’s shift whirred by in a steady momentum, cranking out the vehicles on his roaster. It was a little before closing when he scrawled out the end time of his last assignment, on the task chalkboard on the work floor wall. He might actually make it to Vivi’s before she began with the texting. It’d be fun to wait outside and just hang out, until the first one chimed off.

 Following one brief shower, Arthur got busy in his work room packing some fresh clothing for the next day. A separate bag sat reserved for parts, if he got around to the easier aspects to his arm and trying out the new cooling system – it was rather clunky and added weight – though, keeping the circuits at a controlled temperature kept rotors from overheating. A vent would be a nice benefit, but he needed a sealed compartment; a difficult feat in a multisegmented apparatus.

 While Arthur went around the work room browsing for items he needed, Mystery was satisfied with dozing on the couch. It was only when Arthur hauled out the travel cage for Galahad, that spurred interest from Mystery. Arthur went to the hamster terrarium and located his caramel colored companion in his nest.

 “Well get this stuff downstairs and get that flatcart,” Arthur explained.

 Mystery was already nosing the door to the room open. He glanced back at Arthur, ear twitching. You got that okay?

 “Lead the way.” He claimed the terrarium under his one arm and went with Mystery, to the ground floor.

 The lights around the corner blazed bright, but the sounds from the work floor approached subdued. By now it was well past five, and shutters barred out noises from the open road across from the carport. He hardly saw anyone as he went for a flat cart parked by supplies. Mystery hopped onto the panel and rode it, while Arthur guided it back to the corridor. Loading up his gear was a piece of cake, and he was making good time. He’d park the flatbed cart by the employee access and bring the van around, and leave the cart in parts for whoever needed it next.

 Only a last cluster of technicians remained in the garage, upon his departure. A few closing out some diagnostics or working with one of the trainees. Arthur exited through the back and locked the employee access. The last order of business was a quick text to Uncle, reminding him to lock the deadbolt.

 Score! No messages from Vivi, yet.

 __

 It was almost a shock for Arthur when he arrived at the door to the apartment, and it opened to reveal Vivi. He shouldn’t really be surprised, why would someone not ‘living’ in her apartment answer the door. The fragrance of sugar and popcorn swept out.

 “Holy cakes, I was about to start texting,” she cheered. “Did Uncle Lance kick you out?”

 “Naw,” Arthur grinned. Mystery nudged the back of his legs. “Did you need any help setting up?” He and Vivi had to give space for Mystery, the dog shoved his way on through and went straight for the kitchen. “More important, do you ever feed him?”

 Vivi sighed. She was already gathering up Arthur’s bags. “He had a whole chicken today.”

 Arthur grabbed the terrarium and stood, the cage nestled under his arm. The Plexiglas box wasn’t heavy nor cumbersome, even so, he lingered at the threshold watching as Vivi retreated within. He glanced away and toed at the edge of the door jam. When he raised his gaze, Vivi was still there and quiet, a patient smile tugging the edge of her lips. She nodded toward the living room.

 His feet shuffled across the entry. Noises came from within, the sort you’d expect to curl forth from a kitchen. “A whole chicken? Wow. Isn’t that something.” The sounds didn’t pause or hush a bit, as he scooted through the corridor.

 Finally, he poked his head into the kitchen. “Are you doing spicey stuff?”

 As expected, Lewis was at the stove with a pot and spatula looking guilty. “No?”

 “I’m gunna start sneezing.”

 Lewis shrugged. “It’ll clear up your allergies.”

 “I don’t have allergies.”

 Vivi relocated to the living area to deposit Arthur’s gear, and swung back. She was dressed casually, not her typical skirt or sweater, but her clothing was certainly on the poofy side, and clearly comfy. “Are you gonna start arguing again?”

 Woof?

 “We’re not arguing,” Lewis defended, swinging the spatula.

 “This is a conversation,” Arthur affirmed. He went ahead and followed Vivi. He set Galahad’s terrarium under the end table in the corner of the room and popped the lid.

 “Whatever you call it, I’m not refereeing.”

 Lewis cackled. “Purge initiated.”

 Off center of Vivi’s living area, the other end table was situated with a television on top, with wires hooked from it to the laptop sitting on the floor. In the corridor to the bedroom, the closet door was open and some of the boxes within left on the floor. The door was pulled back fully, permitting Arthur to view some of the items left out of containment, wedged on the shelves within. He shuddered.

 A cacophony of popping erupted from within the kitchen, and Lewis swished around the large pot upon the burner. “Wanna get a movie going, and we can start looking through the stuff?” he proposed. “I did some homemade candy.”

 “Mmm!” Vivi hummed. “These gummies are really ugly, but they’re tasty.”

 “That’s what happens when you don’t use molds.” Lewis brought up a plate with wax paper, and little colorful globs topped. They were ugly as heck, Arthur noted. In a large bowl, Lewis poured out a whole kettle of corn from the pot he was using. The fluffy kernels were still glistening with melted sugar, steam shimmered across the lumpy peak.

 Likewise on the counter, there sat two fire extinguishers. Arthur supposed they could pack one or both in the van. He wondered if she bought both, or if one came with the apartment.

 “Arthur.” He shook his head and looked to Vivi. “Can you get a movie going? I gotta boot up my laptop.”

 The couch was already dressed with blankets and extra pillows. It kind of reminded him of the old times, like nothing changed. He took his seat beside the chair arm, near where he put Galahad’s travel cage. He took the ball of fluff from his little nest and set him up on the back of the couch. Mystery thundered onto the couch and gave the hamster a close look over.

 Opening credits ended for the introduction, and the movie began. Vivi planted herself beside Mystery, and Lewis was last to join with the bowl of popcorn and plate of gooies. Vivi took a handful of popcorn and started eating, along with one of those gooey treats from the plate now set on the back of the couch. Galahad was wheeling his way over, but Mystery lay his head in the way.

 “I was thinking,” she said, and swallowed. Lewis left the popcorn in her care and revisited the kitchen. “We’ll be off on another assignment, and doing whatever cases we want on the way. But we have all this stuff, and it’s kind of starting to pile up.”

 “Right,” Arthur muttered. “You could just dump it off on Duet.” He took the bowl she passed and tried the popcorn. It was good, salty and sweet. Lewis came back over and handed off some drinks to him and Vivi. “Uh, thanks.”

 “Don’t you think I tried?” Vivi licked her fingers and went to typing on the laptop. “We get duplicates and we got fake crap, some of it is legit. Yeah Lew?”

 He nodded. “Some of it gives me the heebie-jeebies. Don’t like that.”

 “I’ve been checking some blogs and people,” Vivi went on, tucking the unopened bottle beside her hip. “I have harmless crud, that’d make for good props for research. That stuff can go to whoever, but Duet doesn’t want duplicates or reproductions.”

 Arthur popped the cap to his beverage and took a sip. “I’ll leave that to you bunch then. I didn’t want much to do with it then, and not really much now.”

 “That’s cool,” Vivi assured, with a smile. “You had some heavy run-ins with some of this crap, and I don’t blame you.” She plopped the laptop onto Arthur’s lap and got off the couch.

 A timer went off, and Lewis made his way over to the kitchen. “Should be good to say farewell, though? Eh, Art?”

 “Yeah.” He reached over to the popcorn bowl and grabbed a kernel, which he delivered to the hamster sitting on Mystery’s head. “No goo junk,” he commanded. “We don’t want to give Mystery a haircut, ‘cuz of some gummy stuff.” Mystery delivered and expression of utter petrification.

 Then it hit Arthur, while Vivi was pulling out a plastic crate from within the closet. “Shit. I forgot the equipment.”

 “Que s’eso?”

 “The equipment.” Arthur took the plate of small, browned marshmallow meringues Lewis handed over. “Um, I was supposed to finalize it. Make sure I’ve got it all stabilized and tuned.” He and Lewis held a painfully long stare. “I wasn’t planning on testing that crap on you. Though, it’d certify if my handywork was thorough.”

 “No.”

 Vivi set the crate down on the floor and browsed through a few clay figures, among them bundled tissue paper and bubble wrap. “That’s fine, we’ll get to that another day.”

 Arthur sucked in some air beside his teeth. “Meh. It was my thing to do, while you guys did yours. Fuck.” He sat a moment, debating if there was something else he could do if he wasn’t preoccupied with his go to task. There was the tinkering work on his arm, but he recalled some of the tools for that was left in the boxes he meant to pack. Aside from eating, which he now was not in the mood for, he didn’t have much else to do but watch bad movies.

 “It’s not late, I can swing over and grab ‘em.”

 “Or you could just let it go, and have a weekend to relax,” Vivi indicated. She leaned on the couch beside his legs. “I wasn’t serious with getting a head start on this, so that stuff can wait. Right?”

 Lewis took the plate of gummies off the couch back, before Galahad could crawl into them. “Is this gunna be a bother for you all evening?”

 Arthur sighed. “Yeah. Threw off my groove and everything.” He pouted. “It won’t take any time at all. Zoom over and back. It’s not a lot to gather up either, I don’t wanna put it off though.”

 Vivi stood up. “Fine. I’m not like, your other boss or anything.” She tried the meringue thing. “Are these burnt?”

 “They fucking are,” Lewis rasped.

 “But they’re good anyway. I love burnt marshmallows.”

 “Not helping.” Lewis pointed down at Arthur. “I’m going with.”

 “Why?” both Arthur and Vivi exclaimed. Mystery woofed. Lewis looked from Vivi to Arthur.

 “To… help? Is there… a reason why I shouldn’t?”

 Vivi stuttered, “No – not… it’s up to Arthur.”

 All up to him. Yay. Arthur set the laptop aside and got off the couch. “Sure, fine, it’s cool. Let’s go so we can get back.” He went to the entry way, twirling intermittently through his strides to call, “Keep an eye on Gally, huh? I want him eating normal hamster things.” Lewis nearly ran into him on their way down the corridor.

 They were already headed out the door, when Vivi answered, “He’ll be good— Gally! Mystery! Not the gummies! No!”

  __

 By all appearances, the garage was vacant of life and sat with impenetrable silence, scarcely an aura of habitation. Vehicles huddled abandoned, the tools cold and still at long last following a brutal and arduous workday. Upon one soldering table stood a partially drained Styrofoam cup, a stray draft teased a greasy rag hung over the handlebar of a flat cart. Light flickered over the listless machinery, in the deepest reaches of the shop strange shadows carved burrows into deserted spaces. Aside from those minute scraps of animation, nothing stirred within Kingsman Mechanics. However, appearances are deceitful.

 The small access doorway for shipments betrayed the established stillness. The knob twisted one way slowly, then the other gradually, a faint tick-tick twittered from the key chamber. Tick-tick… tick! The dead bolt swept sideways with genuine dedication, and the latch barked loose.

 A brief reprieve followed, insisting that nothing was amiss and all was complacent, ordinary, and drab. Then, the faithful metal panel eased an inch, enough to allow a swollen lump to squeeze through. The squishy bulb observed the blanket of unremarkable matter. Off from the doorway, the blocky stacks of supplies and barren pallets, a tarp and some other obscure items, industrial shelving and other blocky shapes.

 Through the doorway extended a small cylinder, and with a click the glaring slate of light glittered through the interior room, skewering the gloom and incriminating the present occupants. Hubcaps, a flatbed cart, opened boxes and packing materials strewn on the floor. Cold metal sleeping in the dark, oblivious boxes, and not a conscious soul in sight.

 The vague shape eased through the slither of doorway and let the panel whisper shut at their back. Once within fully, they doused the light and let their eyes adjust to the swollen murk. With practiced grace they moved from delivery, and inched onto the work floor. Some dull glow did enter through the front windows of Kingsman Mechanics, illuminating the barest of outlines upon workstations and patient vehicles. They moved through the garage meticulously, pausing only to listen and grasp their environment through hearing, and their intuition. It hadn’t failed them yet.

 Parts and easily mobile machinery were everywhere, some adding up into the thousands if packed carefully into the duffle bag slung over their arm. None of it had substantial value, only a temporary check to drop in the bucket. They followed the wall, clicking on the flashlight and capping the front to stifle the blast of light. There was no rush, if they couldn’t find it tonight, there was always next week. It would mean stake out and observe for changes, but a task amended without issue or too much delay. Better safe than sorry. Maybe the gear wasn’t here at all, and this was a waste of time. They wouldn’t know until a thorough search was launched. But all night lay ahead.

[build-a-buddy]

18 for Moonshine

18. Bite

The cold air bites. Moonshine isn’t sure why Awakening allows her kind to feel temperature, and discomfort based on it, but she shivers anyway.

It’s dark, and the wind cuts into her fur. To a passerby, her form slinking across the campus grounds is nothing more then a slightly fat cat. But her footsteps are too quiet, and too stiff in movement, to be a living animal.

Under a streetlight sits a battered Pikachu plush, discolored patches that Moonshine can’t be sure the origin of across its form, a wallet resting against its stomach. Its head turns toward her as she approaches.

“Hello, Moonshine,” says the Pikachu.

Moonshine drops the bag she has been carrying, and it clatters softly against the concrete as it falls. “I brought you what you wanted,” she says. “Give me —“

“Relax,” says the Pikachu. It opens the wallet, and pulls out a capped USB stick. It offers the USB to her, and she takes it quickly; her nose wrinkles — the Pikachu smells of smoke and fire and blood. Smells it should not smell of.

She turns and begins to walk away.

The Pikachu idly thumbs through the wallet - coupons, dollar bills, photos of a child it knew once but does not any longer. It looks up again toward where Moonshine was, the direction she went away in.

“Humans aren’t worth the effort your crew is putting in,” it calls.

“Maybe not to you,” she answers, and the Pikachu does not get to reply before she has vanished fully into the dark.

When she returns to the truck, clambering through the open front window with the aid of paws stuck to the metal by Awakening, the Hoard - as much as they managed to recover - is sleeping, in their telltale pile in the backseat.

Pillow Central, behind the guise of a human form, is sprawled haphazard in the front seat, Alice and Bri on the dashboard. Moonshine jumps from the passenger seat to his lap, and he starts with a shout.

“Urgh, Bri...” he mumbles, and then blinks in the dark, reaching out to feel Moonshine’s face beneath his Awakened hands. “Oh, you’re not Bri.”

“I’ve got something,” she mumbles around the USB, and drops it into his hands.

He is wide awake now— she sees it in the way he sits up straight, in how he shakes himself. “What is it exactly?” he asks. “I know what it is but like—“

“All my source said was it was a lead,” she says.

“And what did you give for it?”

She’s silent.

PC mimics the human sounds of clicking a tongue. “You know what, I don’t want to know,” he says.

He’s rummaging under his seat, bringing out a bag out of which he hefts a old laptop with his free hand. Moonshine watches him, and feels the distinct lack of a false heartbeat within her.

She hopes whatever the sick bastard is gonna to do with it is worth it. She knows it will be. It is for their Beholden, and no mimicry organ matters when they are on the line.

(But it still hurts. She can still feel the absence.)

“Oh, shit,” says PC. Something is open on the laptop, some window, some text that she can’t make out for how bright the screen is in the black.

“Is it good?” she asks, squinting against the glare.

“It’s better then what we’d got, which was nothing,” he says, and starts the truck; it sputters a few times, he murmurs softly at the vehicle and then sighs in relief as it finally rumbles to life. “It’s an address. If I start driving now, we’ll be halfway there by morning.”

“Good.” Moonshine hops from his lap back into the backseat, and curls up. Bunny Kitty emgeres from the pile and settles against her.

“Are you ok?” they ask.

(The stitching itches when it was recently redone.)

“I’m fine,” she says just loud enough for them alone to hear. “I know you were waiting for me. Go back to sleep. And thanks, for helping me earlier. I know it was fucked up.”

Bunny Kitty does not say anything for a long while. Then: “if you want to talk about it, I’m here. I know it was important to you.”

“It was symbolic, it meant nothing,” she lies.

Bunny Kitty stares at her in the dark, unconvinced, and then lies back down, tucking themself between Moonshine’s fore paws.

If things were normal, she would purr at this, but they are not, so Moonshine does not purr.

(None of the Hoard’s cats purr.

Not since their Beholden disappeared.)

[littlewalken]

Jul 8

Seriously y’all, if something like Gashir’s Alone Together gets posted drop a note in my inbox. 

I might not immediately get to it but I still want to see it or at least squirrel it away for later. 

Just because I don’t officially like and follow, to keep my dashboard easy for my brain injury to manage, doesn’t mean I don’t check out what y’all doing, comment, or get the idea to post helpful stuff like bush baby videos.

And because Google won’t let me back in to my You Tube there’s no point having notifications for there. 

And until there is an absolute need I won’t be making a new You Tube either because I don’t have any Google accounts what so ever and what is there to make me think they won’t lock me out of my others because they don’t recognize the same device I’ve used to log in with for years. 

And that, dear children, is why some people don’t even have Google phones. 

Not sure if I’m going to get to the New Monkees heads this morning. Did a bit yesterday so they’re all pretty close to the same stage now.

As for the others Duckie needs his hair redone, I put Sculpt It over his older different brand to experiment and it didn’t work. That Goff Barbie has decided he’s not interested and will get melted down or whatever and when and if I get to The Cure proper I’ll make him again. The Teddy will be a sort of experiment head. I like him, he has a really peaceful expression, but he also understands ‘for science’. 

My X-rays came back fine so all my aches and pains are looking more and more like the anemia. As long as it’s the don’t make enough blood cells type and not the my own body destroys the red blood cells faster than I can make them. 

I can do the pale Victorian spinster who avoids the sun, sleeps 20 hours a day, and is cared for by a devoted follower who shares my artistic creations with the word because I’m too tired for such trivialities. 

The other person must have a driver’s license and understand what it’s like to live with a creative person. 

Got to go watch Alone Together and kitties, brb

[awesomelephuoclocblog-blog]

Dropshiply Review: OTO + BONUS + DEMO + DISCOUNT – EASY MANAGE DROPSHIPING BUSINESS

https://lephuocloc.com/dropshiply-review/

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Dropshiply Review: OTO + BONUS + DEMO + DISCOUNT – EASY MANAGE DROPSHIPING BUSINESS

Dropshiply Review: OTO + BONUS + DEMO + DISCOUNT – EASY MANAGE DROPSHIPING BUSINESS

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Dropshiply Review – Software highlights breakdown

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https://lephuocloc.com/dropshiply-review/

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