#IMAC ONLINE

[thetechbuyer]

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[cashygo-blog]

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[steswiftmusic]

Online Music lessons tailored to YOUR individual needs and interests.

We are an award winning online music academy, who have helped thousands of people just like YOU. We match your unique learning style and musical interests with a professional teacher to put you ahead of the curve in your education.

We will save you time and money from the comfort of your home, while offering additional content alongside your lessons and 24 hour customer support, if you need further guidance or advice. 

[ellieluvr420]

wife Abby headcanons xoxo

-You met at a bar when your friend cancelled on you last minute, she offered to buy you a drink and you chatted at the bar until she invited you back to hers, this was back when you were 22 and she was 25 so her flat was more modest but still well decorated and clean. You both shared a bottle of wine and sat and spoke more for hours until you were both so drunk you started doing karaoke together by watching youtube videos on her TV, she invited you out to an actual karaoke bar as your second date and she only fell even more in love with you the more she saw you.

-I think she would work in corporate like a lawyer or investment banker or something so I think she would try and work from home as much as they would let her.

-She looks so funny when she works from home too because she wears work clothes on her top half for her zoom calls but then she would be wearing pj bottoms and her slippers on her bottom half.

-Such a victim of Apple's marketing, always insists she needs the newest phone or whatever they had brought out, she has the watch, the phone, an ipad, an imac, macbook pro, airpod pros and airpod max's. Literally everything they sell because she's actually a tech geek at heart.

"I totally need it."

"Give me one reason you need an iPad Abigail."

"...I don't know, it's just cool."

You roll your eyes at her but chuckle at her insistence as you press a small kiss to her pouty lips. She smiles at you and looks like a child on Christmas day as she orders her new toy.

-She would so wear the airpod max's while working out and i think she'd always have one of those gallon water bottles that she'd take everywhere with her.

"Babe please just let me buy you one, trust me it will make you drink so much more water."

"No it won't, do not waste your money seriously." She'd huff at your stubbornness and go and buy you one anyway.

-I think she would workout at night or during the day if she can fit it in which rarely happens because she enjoys her mornings with you where you guys cuddle and chat and have breakfast together before she goes to work or gets started in the home office

-Does majority of the cooking because she really enjoys it and is also a chef, like she whips up three course meals so regularly like its nothing.

-You try and make dinner together on the weekends which equates to her micromanaging you until she gets too stressed watching you mess up and does it herself while you sit on the counter entertaining her.

-She always goes to sleep as big spoon and always wakes up as little spoon, every night, without failure. Also loves to lay on your stomach with her arms around your waist, one of her fav cuddling positions.

-She's the kind of person to ignore and persevere through a cold until she literally passes out and will get mad at you when you have to force her to rest but once she's comfy and has accepted she's ill she's such a baby.

-She would be so good with kids and they would all love her too like when you would go to family gatherings together all the kids would always be glued to her pulling her every which way

-loves dogs and cats and wants two of each

-loves home date nights where you cook together and watch films or play games whether its board, video or card games. Once you bought a fake police file and tried to figure out who the murderer was, it ended in a huge argument because you couldn't agree on who it was, you were so annoyed you made her sleep on the sofa but in the middle of night she sauntered back into your room and climbs into bed cuddling into you.

"Sorry babe, you were right." She kisses your forehead and you smile as you both go to sleep happily, Abby had managed to find the answer online but she didn't tell you that you were in fact wrong, she would rather be in bed cuddling you than prove she was right.

-I think she would want 3 kids, preferably boy, girl, boy or vice versa but she would be happy with any kids.

-If/when kids come along she starts working from home primarily and you watch them grow together.

-She would eventually want to move away from the city where she lived for an easy commute to work to a beautiful house in the country with large fields behind a huge back garden where the dogs and cats, and ducks all play with the kids.

-She would love reading crime thriller books but she also has a guilty pleasure for romance and sometimes she'll sit in bed with you and read you parts of the books. Can imagine older Abby refusing to get reading glasses because that makes her officially old but she’s literally holding the book as far as it will go and squinting so hard and she still can’t read it, you eventually give in and read it to her which only motivates her to not get glasses more because this was a way better option.

-Loves Family Guy, American Dad, South Park, all those kind of shows but if you put on a drama she'll grumble and then be hooked.

"Oh my god, oh my god, are you fucking kidding me? Noooooooo." Abby yells at the screen as she watches the season 1 finale of vampire diaries with you, you had started rewatching it as it was nostalgic and she made fun of you so much until you forced her to watch the episode you were watching.

Like I could so see her watching greys anatomy and sobbing when there's a major character death

-Goes to get mani pedis with you and she'll always get her nails painted to match the colour of yours even when you'd pick super bright to mess with her she'd get it without batting an eye.

-Of course she gets along super well with all your friends and family, sometimes you think they love her more than you 😀

okay that's all I got for now but I will probs do way more once the series is finished :))

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Monster, Inc.

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is an asshole, you know this. But what happens when he turns his wrath upon you? (plus!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, this reader is known as Missie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

You sweep in with an armful. Two! You push through the door with your ass and barely keep from falling onto it. As ever, you enter in a whirlwind of to dos and currently being dones. You breeze over to your desk and carefully lower your load, blowing out through your lips. Whew. 

You peer over at the office door. The place is desolate. You’re always the first in, the last one gone. You can blame your boss’ high standards but that’s not fair. You put just as much pressure on yourself. 

You unlock Mr. Hansen’s office door and set about sorting through your list. You hang his suit jackets that you picked up last night and put the new pair of Prada loafers he ordered on the little rack across the bottom. Then you bring in his usual coffee in the gold insulated mug engraved with the company logo. Then you set out that special little treat you spent your morsel of free time baking. 

You carefully place the numbered candles on the mini cheesecake and stand with a proud smile. You never forget to dot and i or cross a t. You think that’s why you’ve lasted longer than any other PA under Hansen’s wise guidance. You anticipate his needs before they even come up. 

You hear him coming and light the candles before you rush to the door. You swiftly step outside and out of his way as he shoves his briefcase into your arms and tosses his jacket at you. You catch the latter and wait for him to enter before you trail after him. You put his briefcase on his desk as he goes around the other side and swiftly hang his jacket with his freshly cleaned suits. 

He noisily flicks back the lid of the travel mug then let out a hum. You know that hum. He’s not happy. He hasn’t even tasted it. What’s the problem. You turn and smooth the ruffles of your polka dot skirt. 

“Sir? Is the coffee not hot enough?” 

“What the fuck is this?” He stares at his desk with a sneer. 

“Sir?” 

“What the fuck!” He raises his voice. 

“Oop! Happy birthday, sir!” You trill and come closer, peeking past his iMac at the flickering flames on the 4 and the 6. 

He snarls at the candles and picks up the waxy 6. You blink, surprised by his reaction. You don’t understand. It’s a nice birthday surprise.  

“Sir, It’s tiramisu cheesecake. I know you like the stuff from down at White’s but--” 

He throws the little candle at you and the melting wax drips on your ruffled collar. You cry out and catch it as the flame goes out. He does the same with the other and scalds your inner arm. You cradle the candles as he takes the cakes and tosses it like a frisbee toward the door. You gulp. 

You’ve seen Mr. Hansen angry before. It’s his favourite emotion but it’s never been because of you. His blue eyes narrow at you and he curls his lips. 

“I don’t need some young fucking bimbo like you reminding me how old I am,” he snaps and picks up the travel mug, slurping loudly, “get the fuck out of my sight. And clean that up.” 

“I’m sorry, sir, I thought--” 

“You thought?” He barks, “not hard enough, hips.” 

You wince. His little pet names aren’t as sweet as they might seem and he rarely hurls them at you. No, he calls the women in the copier room sugar tits and baby, but not you. You look down at your skirt, the frills don’t make you seem any less wide. His reminder of your size stings, not that you hate yourself, but he can be so nasty. 

“Yes, sir,” you answer brightly. 

He sighs and falls into his large leather chair. He mutters into the cup as you go off to grab paper towel to clean up the desecrated cheesecake. You return with the wastebasket from beside your desk and set to wiping up the ruins. 

“You really need to make those things look any bigger? I should send you down to HR,” he snips. 

You look up, confused. You shake your head as you put another clump in the bin, “Mr. Hansen?” 

“Whatever that is...” he gestures to his collar and you look down at your ruffly collar, “it’s not doing you any favours.” 

“Thank you, sir, I’ll donate the blouse,” you agree. 

“Even the poor idiots down at Goodwill don’t deserve that,” he scoffs. 

He’s in a mood. You’re not prepared for it. You assumed his birthday would be a happy day. It’s your own fault for trying to predict him. He’s hard to account for.  

You finish up and grab the roll of towels and the bin. You stand and something flies over your shoulder. You flinch and turn to look down at his golden pen. You stare, perplexed. 

“Well, pick it up, hips.” You shrug and obey. As you bend over, he chortles, “damn, wide load.” 

You snap up, embarrassment singing your neck and cheeks. You turn and hurry over to place the pen on his desk. You dip your head and quickly retreat. 

“Ah, cheeks, don’t be so shy. Some guys like the extra cushion,” he snickers. 

“Sir, can I get you anything else?” You stop by the door. It’s better not to feed into his little game. This is fun for him. 

“Some fucking peace and quiet. Get out.” 

You don’t hesitate to do exactly that. You shut the door and cross to your desk. You put the bun down and swerve towards the break room to put the towels away. You return to your desk and sit, recentering yourself as you ready yourself for the daily rundown. Before you can open up the calendar, a notification pops up in the corner.  

Mr. Hansen? 

You click on it and revealed in the chat is a picture of your ass as you bend over to grab the pen. You cringe. He can see that you read the message. The little eye icon pops down beside the picture. 

‘Cancel my nine o’clock’ his next message pops up. 

‘Yes, Mr. Hansen,’ you type back. 

His dot turns to red. Unavailable. Right. He is bristly this morning, it’s best he doesn’t have anyone else around to provoke him. 

[martyrofacrimescene]

being objectum has you exited when you see an imac g3 even if you don't care much for them yourself because there's still the "omg that's the one half of my online friends like! hiii imac g3!!!" in your mind

[256gb]

i miss you single-purpose gadgets i miss you phones with weird form factors i miss you sony vaio p i miss you frutiger aero i miss you ipod nano i miss you handheld game consoles without wifi i miss you lenovo thinkpad mouse nub i miss you bondi blue imac running macOS 9 in the back of my middle school's storage room i miss you blockbuster i miss you beanie hats with built in headphones i miss you flash based websites i miss you dvd extras i miss you nintendo ds i miss you pivot stick figure animator i miss you blank rewritable cds i miss you interactive buddy i miss you homestar runner i miss you dial up sounds i miss you ytmnd i miss you LSDJ i miss you transparent game consoles i miss you 720p flip video cameras i miss you windows movie maker i miss you "super mario 64 free online" google searches i miss you brian eno windows boot sound i miss you msn messenger nudges i miss you so so much

[volkswagonblues]

what if we do an IWTV role reversal but Armand is the human boy "interviewing" Daniel the ancient vampire??

....with always-a-human!Armand and 514-year-old vampire Daniel? And Armand is a depressed underpaid zillenial artist working at a fuckass theatre troupe, and then the vampire Daniel hires him to work on a mysterious painting? So it's like, instead of an interview with the vampire Armand ends up doing ~Painting of a Vampire~? And also human Rashid is Armand's roommate and is genuinely too cool for his bullshit??

under the cut

HUMAN ARMAND MEETS VAMPIRE DANIEL AU

Armand is only at the pub because the rest of the troupe is at the pub, and the way things are going with Santiago, he can’t risk pissing anyone else or worse, getting accused of not “being a team player.” Never mind that everyone else has forgotten about him at this point. He sees Sam, Celeste and Estelle in the corner playing pool. Quan Pham is chatting up some poor woman clearly dying to get away and get back to her friends. Santiago, the artistic director, is nowhere to be seen, which feels more ominous than anything else. Lately he’s developed a habit of lurking over Armand’s shoulder while he’s sitting at his iMac, pointing at things in After Effects and making comments like “Are you sure it’s scaled correctly?” or “Why’d you name that layer that way?”. Armand sometimes has fantasies of shutting him in a box and throwing away the key forever.

He’s wondering when would be an acceptable time to leave when someone slides onto the bar stool next to him. An older man. He’s white, with a head of corkscrew grey curls and a battered leather jacket. Although they’re indoors and it’s nighttime, he’s wearing a pair of tinted sunglasses. Ambiguous “creative type” hyphenate rich dillettante wanker, Armand thinks. Maybe a show exec, or an actor who’s found niche success in an extremely online fandom. Or he could just be rich. Armand’s only been in the UK for four years and he’s already encountered, by his rough estimate, about ten million versions of these men.

The man smiles. “Hi there,” he says in an American accent.

Armand nods. “Hello.”

The silence stretches on between them. The man’s eyes flicker behind his sunglasses, examining Armand like a bug under a magnifying glass. Armand, discomfitted, drops his eyes. Are those acrylic nails?

“Daniel,” the man says, finally. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Armand.”

“I know.”

Armand frowns. “Have we met before?”

Daniel leans back. Makes a noncommital sound. He says, “I follow your work online, you have a great eye for portraiture. It’s bold. Experimental, but not so abstract you’ve disappeared up your own asshole. If you ever put on a gallery show, I would have liked to see your brushwork up close. How come you don’t do any shows?”

“Uh,” Armand says. “Well, uh, working with galleries takes a lot of time. Mostly I take digital commissions. And painting isn’t my actual job. I work with—”

“Yes, yes.” Daniel waves his drink’s paper straw in the air. He holds it between index and middle finger: the gesture of an inveterate smoker.“You used to be a background animator for le Théâtre des Vampires.” He pronounces it with an American’s exaggerated accent. “How is that going for you?”

“Fine,” Armand says stiffly.

“The vampire’s theatre,” Daniel says, “Fun name.”

“It’s an ironic reference to the bloodsucking aristocracy. The whole point is that we’re trying to make theatre more accessible to the public, which is why we also do youth workshops to introduce lower-income children to the arts—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Daniel says. “I Googled you guys already.”

“Okay.”

“And while I was doing my research, a little birdie told me that they fired you.”

Armand feels his shoulder tense up. He tugs his sleeves over his hands, rubbing the fabirc between his fingers. “I have a contract with them that ended after August, yes. They are still deciding if they will renew it.”

This is true. He wrapped up his last day after their final show for the Edinburgh International Festival. Two grueling weeks at the Lyceum, their biggest gig to date and the last stop before they finish the summer festival circuit. Santiago had emailed him to say they’ll have an update about his contract once everyone comes back from their well-earned break. Armand can’t tell if this is good or bad news. Surely if Santiago wants him gone, he would have just gone ahead and said it?

Daniel leans in. “Shit luck, but I’m not here to discuss employment precarity in the underfunded and overcrowded arts industry,” he says. “I’m here because I have a job for you.”

“Are you a friend of Santiago’s?” Armand asks.

“Who? Nevermind. I want to commission you to paint a portrait for an acquaintance of mine. Big canvas. Oil paints. Really classic stuff. You’ll be painting a family portrait of my acquaintance. Him, his partner, and their daughter who passed away. Reunite the happy family for me. I’ll pay you an amount that’ll have you biting through your paintbrush. A few terms and conditions, of course, but I think you’ll find it an interesting endeavor.”

Armand knows that he is not the most savvy of people when it comes to business. He’s not good with money. Doesn’t have the capacity to read people and figure out what’s their angle. Trusts too much and thinks too little. Whatever scam Daniel is running, he can’t tell. But his brain is giving him warning bells anyway.

“I don’t do this kind of work,” he says. “I suggest you try Etsy.”

Daniel laughs, white teeth flashing in the pub’s low light. “Still such a smartass. Your English is much better though.”

Armand rubs his temple with his fingertips. There’s an insistent pressure behind his eyes, a tightening around his skull like the beginning of a migraine.

“Why not consider it?” Daniel says. “You have the free time.”

Armand darts a glance up at Daniel’s face. He knows (how does he know this?) with cold glacial certainty that if Daniel were to remove the sunglasses, the eyes behind them would be gold and orange. The colour palette of a nuclear explosion.

“Very poetic,” Daniel says.

Armand blinks away the bolt of pain that stabs through his left temple. “Do we know each other?”

Tap, tap,goes the weirdly pointy nails on the beermat. “Does anyone truly know anyone? Daniel says, sing-song. “So, are you interested? I’ll repeat myself: you’ll be very well-paid for you time.”

The pub is too warm from the press of too many bodies crammed together. Someone is setting up their guitar in the corner for live music night. They tap the mic and the soundsystem lets out a screeching wave of feedback. Is there feedback? The noise feels like it’s in Armand head. Too many people are talking right now in this pub.

Daniel���s nuclear explosion eyes are still fixed on Armand.

Armand feels cold. Early spring mist on his skin; the roar of traffic. A splinter in his left palm that itches. Excuse-moi, sais-tu où se trouve le gare? And Armand turns, and his grip loosens on the railing, and—and then—and then he—

Daniel slides off the bar stool. Such a smooth, youthful gesture. Not quite right for a man with his deep crow’s feet and silver hair. “I’ll send you the details by email. I assume the one on your website is still good? Yes? Make sure to sign all the paperwork my assistant sends over, it’s part of the whole deal.” He reaches into his leather jacket—fishes around the packet of cigarettes he always keeps in the left-hand pocket (cigarettes? how does Armand know this?)—and he pulls a piece of folded paper. “Call if you have questions. Bonne soirée, Armand.”

When Armand unfolds the paper, a business card slips out. No job title or company name. It reads, simply, Daniel Molloy with a phone number embossed in tiny gold numbers.

The piece of paper is something torn out of a schoolboy’s exercise book. Someone had left a sketch in pencil: Daniel’s face rendered in chiaroscuro. No sunglasses on his face. He’s looking off to the side, a nascent smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. Not the ironic and mocking smile he wore tonight, but something softer, genuinely unguarded amusement. The shading is wobbly but the lines are confident and well-formed.

In the corner the artist has left his signature. Amadeo. le 4 mars 2012

Armand looks up. “When did I—” he begins, but the chair next to him is already empty.

**

No Name <dm@sanguineinc.com>

01 September 2023 at 12:01

To: Armand Breteau <admin@abreteauart.com>

To Mr. A. Breteau,

I hope this email finds you well, or as well as any email can find anyone. I’ve been following your artistic career with some interest over the past years. If you have the time and capacity, I wish to engage your services and commission one (1) painting to be completed. The subject matter is very dear to me.

This is no ordinary project. I value, above all else, privacy and discretion.

My assistant will shortly send over a contract and a non-disclosure agreement. I will highlight a few key stipulations in the contract: first, you must complete the painting at a location of my choosing.

Second, all materials related to the painting must stay on the premises. You may not take home any sketches or references. You may not recreate any part of the painting in private.

Third, and most important, you will not meet the subjects of the painting. I will supply you everything you need to portray them in the most perfect of detail.

Yours,

D.M.

PS. If this all sounds like a crock of horseshit to you, then tough luck! Take a close look at the amount of pounds sterling I’m putting on the table. And no, I didn’t accidentally add an extra zero. It’s all above board and legally watertight. Show it to your lawyer roomie if you want.

Think about it, and then let me know if it still smells like shit or roses.

The arrogance of the email rubs Armand the wrong way, but then he clicks open the PDF attachment and nearly drops the iPad. It’s a lot of money. Not quite a ludicrous amount, but not far off. A truly life-changing amount of money. Enough money that he could stop worrying about rent for the next ten years. Enough money to soften the anxiety around his contract with the Théâtre des Vampires expiring in February and not knowing if they’ll want him around for another year.

**

Armand Breteau<admin@abreteauart.com>

01 September 2023 at 02:29

To: No Name <dm@sanguineinc.com>

Ok. when do i start? can you tell me more details about the subject of the painting?

thanks,

Armand

He hears the notification sound almost immediately after he hits send.

No Name <dm@sanguineinc.com>

01 September 2023 at 02:30

To: Armand Breteau <hello@abreteauart.com>

Tomorrow.

**

The next afternoon, there’s a car waiting for him outside on the street where he lives.

“Mate, don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging you for your life choices, but are you sure this isn’t like, a serial killer posing as a millionaire art appreciator?” Rashid gets up from watching the football match replay to peer out from between the curtains.

“He contacted me on my website’s public email,” Armand says, a defense that sounds pathetic when spoken out loud. “And you said to me that the contract looks alright.”

Rashid shrugs. “I also told you I don’t deal with contract law.”

“Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“Depends,” Rashid says. “Is he going to pay you the money before or after he traps you in a pit and skins you make a suit?” There’s a tinny roar from the TV. “Oh shit, Arsenal just scored.”

Armand fidgets with the duffle bag holding his sketchpad and paintbrushes. “Should I not go?”

“No, you should. Go get that bread, or whatever it is kids say these days. Get that baguette, mon ami.”

“Will you call the police if I don’t text you at midnight? I’ll share my location with you.”

“Sure.” Rashid’s attention is entirely absorbed by Sky Sports instant replay.

“Really?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll send the cops after you if you text me he’s feeding you into his gay boy meat grinder.”

“Okay.”

“Look, Armand,” Rashid says. “I think you’ll be fine.”

“How do you know?”

“He’s driving a Tesla, mate. No serial killer would be driving a car with a built-in tracking system. If it’s a mid-aughts unmarked transit van I’d be worried, but a Tesla? Nah.”

“Okay.”

“Just remember to ask for the money on the nightstand before you take your clothes off. Use your big puppy eyes if you have to.”

Armand can’t tell if Rashid is serious or not. They’ve been flatmates for three years now, and he can’t tell if Rashid genuinely likes him or not. He often wonders if Rashid is making fun of him most of the time, but keeps him around anyways because if he likes having a flatmate who voluntarily does all the cleaning and whose work has even worse hours than Big Law. But he’s a good guy, Rashid. He would probably alert the authorities if Armand goes missing. At least, Armand hopes he will. He takes his time lacing up his sneakers.

“See you,” Armand says, finally.

Rashid grunts, but only because one of the Man United players got another yellow card. Armand shoulders his bag and slips out.

[conventionalwisdomcomic]

Weekly Digimon Comic: Digimon Tamers - episode 7.25

Man, remember back when the notion of an OLD PERSON using The Internet was uncommon enough to be a punchline unto itself? These days, the only thing more dated than that is the totally-not-an-iMac that Grandma's using.

Also, does it show that I really don't care much for interacting with people online?

Finally, YES, I have once again managed to wring three whole comic ideas out of a single episode, so we'll get one more dose of episode 7 next week... though admittedly the third one is a bit on the odd side (well, odd-ER)

Conventional Wisdom / Patreon

[pigswithwings]

walks in and almost trips on a rock. hello. Erm, . tell me about one of your fav childhood video games, even if you didn't play it- could just be one you watched via playthroughs and absolutely adored. maybe one you think deserves a resurgence but never will. also here have this pic of an imac ive been crushing on recently. disappears into the void

ill be completely honest as a child i had very limited access to the internet and online games and television and such which basically informs my current lack of awareness and breadth when it comes to modern video games. like i didn't even watch playthroughs i didn't know what they were... that being said i very vividly remember playing the game Epic Mickey once and being deeply fascinated by the graphics so probably that one

[antisocialxconstruct]

Just kinda... putting this out into the universe for right now, but I've been thinking really hard about getting my old enamel pin collections back in circulation, as well as maybe releasing them as stickers as well (for a budget option and also for things you can't put enamel pins on). I had to throw out basically all my remaining stock when I moved (which... oouugh it still hurts), so I might essentially run a "reboot" kickstarter to get another batch of Dire Hounds made and then try again to get the full Grimalkins set funded. A few things this would let me do:

update the templates for slightly cleaner manufacturing, and update the backer cards with accurate artist info because man that was really bothering me

like I said, hopefully get the second half of the Grimalkins produced so they're a proper six-pin collection like the first one

network! Now that I'm in a big city I think I honestly might have better luck with consignment stores and craft fairs than I ever did with only an online shop, and more visibility can only mean good things.

I'm also still definitely planning to make idog merch, and beyond that I'd potentially love to lean even further into the cyberpunk and y2k aesthetics to really hone my Brand™, but obviously that requires original thought and creative effort while getting the dogs and cats remade just requires pulling the old AI files off my poor aging iMac.

[thetechbuyer]

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[cashygo-blog]

Cashygo Sell old phone Online in bangalore Instant Cash

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[rainbowxocs]

TW: SEVERE CHILD ABUSE AND NEGLECT.

Remember: Daisy loves you!!

Name: Daisy, Daisy, Bell!

Alt Name: Ana Liddell.

Old Patient Number: Patient 101. :)

Username: @daisydaisyanswer FRIEND ME ON ROBLOX XD

Old Special Titles: Puppet.

Nicknames: Daisy Mayzie, Monster, Eve, Your Best Friend, Real Ana , False God, False Prophet, Bad Seed, Simulacra, Lost Soul, Doll, Apple, error: 1 14 1, My Lady, Lord Daisy, Queen Daisy, Princess Daisy, Our Star, Nobody, Scapegoat, Sacrificial Lamb, Black Sheep.

Age: 25!!

Pronouns: She/They!

Sexuality: Lesbian!

Gender: Glitchgender, Lostgender!

Species: Unstable Hybrid.

Hybrid Information: Nephilim 33%, Litch 33%, Simulacra 33%.

Disorders: CPTSD, BPD, Insomnia, Autism, Pathological Lying OCD, Chronically Online (Literally), Suicide Ideation, Night Terrors, Dissociative Amnesia, Maladaptive Daydreaming.

Physical Conditions: Chronic Pain, Migraines, Data Rot.

Religion: It’s kinda weird for a god to have a religion no? I am the religion. XD.

Job: I guess you could say I’m a game developer XD.

Lives in: Hmm depends.. Sometimes I’m in my original house.. sometimes Floor 1, Section 1. Floor 9, Section 3, Subsection 1. But Irl I live in Wisconsin XD.

Speaks: English, Fae, Demonic, Angelic, Morse Code, Ciphers, Wing Dings, Leet Speak.

Height: 5’8”

Race: White.

Spirit Level: Acceptance.

Powers: Reality Manipulation, Plant Magic, Teleportation, Technology Manipulation, Hypnosis, Creation Magic, Ice/Snow Magic, "Resetting", Glitching, General Video Game Logic, Generation Loss, Computer Viruses, Banishment, Super Hearing, Divination, Flying, Star/Galaxy Magic.

Weapons: Knives, Swords.

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral.

Text Color: Pink!!!!

Main Animal: Black Kiwi Bird, Raccoon.

Hobbies: Painting, Gardening, Sewing, Singing, Sculpting, Writing, Doll Creating, Playing Pretend, Video Games, Lost Media, Xylophone, Piano.

Diet: Can eat normal human food, but due to her condition has to eat.. unconventional… animals.. occasionally…

Favorite Drink: Almond Water, Bloxy Cola, BSODA, Apple Sleepytime Tea, Witches Brew, Grimace Shake, Grape Juice, Apple Juice.

Favorite Meal: Musubi, Bacon Soup, Cheeseburger, Sour Dough Bread, Pepperoni Pizza.

Favorite Snacks: Potato Chips, Zesty Bars, Apples, Popcorn, Flintstones Vitamins, Communion Wafers.

Favorite Candy: Bubble Gum, Gummy Bears, Halloween Candy, Chocolate Coins, Peeps.

Favorite Dessert: Black Forest Cake, Butterscotch Cinnamon Pie, Turkish Delights, Chocolate & Strawberry Icecream, Apple Pie, Icecream Cake.

Favorite Flower: Daisies.

Scent: Old TV, Decaying Earth, Plastic, Strawberry Shortcake Dolls.

Handedness: Ambidextrous.

Blood Color: Glittery Pink, Sometimes Red, Sometimes Static.

Birthday: December 20th 1999! (I am a Sagittarius!!)

Theme:

Playlist:

Fun Fact: I LOVE YOU!!!

Special Interest: It’s y o u hehehe. :) I also like Roblox and the Internet, and Veggietales!!!

Comfort Objects: Dolly, Teddy, Ducky, Gloomy Bear, Freddy Plush, Imac G3, Fuggler, Flip Phone, IBook G3, Idog, Furby, Weighted Companion Cube, Balloon, Tamagotchi.

Stims: Does a lot of computer based stims. Like resetting herself, using her generation loss power, buffering. She also likes to control things with her powers, and play with her comfort objects, also has a collection of fidget spinners.

Soul: Wrinkled Pink Mushroom

Stimboard: LINK

Moodboard: LINK

Fashionboard: LINK

Models: LINK

Renders:

(This Render was created by Zack Sinner on Roblox!)

Her Minecraft Skin: [picture soon]

Family Tree!!!:

Camilla Liddell. (My mother… I don’t know how to feel about her..)

The Cultivator. (My… Dad…? It feels weird to call him that now… after everything that happened..)

Cosmo Bell (MY REAL DAD!!)

Radio (My Adoptive Dad!)

Ana ThoroughGood. (She’s, my twin I guess… If you could even call her that.)

Friends: You! :) and Mouse!

Crush!!!!!: Eyeris Cataract (I likkkeee her. Hehe~)

Pets: Mel! (Brown, Three Eyed Cat.)

Bread!!! (Pink Patterned Wobbledog with Two Heads and a Tail.)

Unihorsey (Purple Unicorn with a Rainbow Mane and Horn.)

John! (Green Frog.)

Brief Personality: Daisy is quite odd, She seems to act like a teenager from the early 2000s, and because of that a lot of her language is incomprehensible. She is quite possessive and controlling, she was so used to being in control of every little part of her world that now that she is in the real world she has no clue how to handle it. She is trying to be normal and likable so much that it’s almost to her detriment. However she is very sweet when her thoughts don’t consume her.

Brief Backstory:

If you were to ask Daisy what her past was like, you would only get bits and fragments. She would rather bury the past than to dwell on it too much. But, A long time ago, in a place far far away. A little girl named Ana was born. Ana was born out of wedlock to her mother Camilla and her highschool sweetheart, Cosmo.

The two of them lived in a small rural town, mostly made up with farms, a church, and a few mom and pop shops around. Ana however, didn’t know about all of that. Camilla hid her pregnancy from her family and friends, and ended up moving a little ways out of town to a cabin in the woods. This is where Ana grew up for the rest of her life.

Camilla, in order to hide the child and not cause herself to be ostracized by her community: locked Ana inside the house. Ana was not allowed to go outside or go to school or do much of anything. Ana spent most of her childhood trapped in her room, as going anywhere outside of her room almost always meant some sort of punishment from her mother.

Camilla was very neglectful, It’s a miracle that Ana survived as long as she did. Ana was barely fed, one of the only things she was allowed to eat was apples because her mother never noticed them missing. Ana did not have many possessions, her mother however occasionally did give her a gift or two.

Camilla taught Ana how to read using The Bible, Ana was actually very intelligent for her age, after Camilla taught her the basics she gave up on the whole thing, but Ana was able to read the Bible cover to cover. Ana devoured any information she could get her hands on, she slowly taught herself how to draw and how to write.

Her mother would buy her crayons and paper occasionally to keep her busy, and she would draw and write stories about far off lands and princesses and unicorns. She loved to create things. Camilla eventually bought her a few toys, including a doll, which also helped her create stories and such.

One day, Ana was wandering around the house, and saw her mother on the computer. Ana was fascinated with it, she watched her mother from a far, until Camilla picked her up and sat her on the lap while she surfed the web.

Ana loved that computer. She would beg her mom to search up random things and go on random websites. Camilla eventually gave up her old computer to Ana when she got her new one. This opened up a whole new world for Ana, she could play games like Roblox and Animal Jam, and she could google any question she wanted without annoying her mother.

When she was eight years old, she was completely obsessed with Roblox, she loved being able to talk to other kids and play fun games. She was able to teach herself how to type by her obsessive googling and talking to other people. She would take apart the few things she owned, like a music box to see how they worked. She was fascinated with making things.

She would make Roblox games, building houses and horror games for her online friends to play. She felt seen, for the first time in a long time. There were actual people who wanted to talk with her and play with her. She would play the game for hours and hours. It gave her an escape from everything. She could ignore the hunger, she could ignore the loneliness. She was in her own little world.

She created her own little character she named Daisy Bell. After the song. Daisy could do anything. Daisy could fly, Daisy could have a family, Daisy could go to school, Daisy was everything Ana couldn’t be. Ana was just a stupid little girl, she thought.

One week, when Ana was nine years old. She and her mother got into an argument. Which was normal. But something in her mother snapped. She told Ana that she was going away forever, she was going on a vacation and she couldn’t come. Because she was a mistake. She was the reason her life had been ruined. She wish she had never had Ana.

Camilla locked Ana in her room, and left her. That was the last time Camilla would see her daughter for a long while. Ana at first, thought she would come back. This had happened before when Camilla was angry with her, but she waited. And waited. And she ran out of food. She was starving. She tried playing on her computer to ignore it, and writing in her diary.

She began to hear a voice from outside her window, it was attempting to coax her out of her room. It promised her that she was safe, and that it was a friend. Eventually the hunger got to be too much. She tried breaking down the door, but she was too weak. But then she had an idea. She googled how to pick a lock, and was able to escape her room.

So, in her pajamas, she set out for into the snowy forest around her. She wandered for what felt like hours, she was so cold. She wandered and wandered until she came across a train, with a tall shadowy figure standing in front of it.

He comforted the child as she died of hypothermia. He told her that he could give her a world of her own. That he could make her a god, he could give her friends, family, anything she could ever want. As long as she ate the apple.

She of course, accepted. What a wonderful birthday present. She thought. A world of my own. She spent her tenth birthday with what she would now know as “The Cultivator”, her new best friend, and guardian.

The Cultivator taught Ana, now named Daisy. How to use her new powers. She was able to bend reality to her will, he told her that whatever she wanted would appear to her. He asked her what she wanted to make first. She made an apple. Which amused him.

He left her alone with a large empty void. And she began to create her own world.. except.. It didn’t go well at all. Missing textures. Everything fell apart when she built it. Even the premade stuff the cultivator had made for her fell apart in her hands. She collapsed into a pile of bricks. She felt so alone. What if the cultivator got rid of her?

Someone, however. Approached her. As if to answer her loneliness. She created an “NPC”, her name was Mouse. Mouse became Daisy’s best friend, Daisy finally had someone to talk to besides the cultivator and herself. Mouse told her stories about far off lands and adventures she had been on. Mouse told her that she goes where people needed her.

Mouse would disappear in and out of Daisy’s life. Sometimes she would be gone for a few minutes, a few months, a year. Daisy began to grow up, in her own way, slowly becoming a teenager. Mouse taught Daisy how to play the xylophone, and rediscover her love of Piano. Mouse also helped her with how to make her world as semirealistic as possible. She helped Daisy make a cat companion, and taught her how trees work.

Daisy worked hard, creating her dream world. A place that was completely perfect, her very own paradise. Except, one day. She was sitting in the middle of her living room, drawing. Cultivator hadn’t visited in a couple of days, Mouse a couple of months. She was alone, with her thoughts, just like she had been for six years now. She felt.. so very alone..

She was in paradise. But she was still so alone.. a sort of static began to surround her, her mind was racing, she gripped her hair with her hands almost pulling it out. The static whispered to her like a friend, It told her how awful she was, how she deserved punishment, she deserved this.

Until, She heard a knock at the door. Snapping her out of her state. It was.. a new NPC? A new person to play with? She giddily ran over to them, showing them her house, her cat, anything she could think of. She finally had someone to chat with, to talk to. Maybe even forever.. But.. the NPC eventually had to leave..

And so did most every NPC after them. They would come, they would leave, they would come, they would leave. Daisy wondered if there was a way to make them stay forever.. Why couldn’t they just stay with her forever..

[working on the rest, unfortunately you can’t draft an already posted reference lol]

[gardengnosticator]

KAL movie notes

The Point Man. korean action film about kidnapped missionaries in afghanistan during the war on terror. classic jingoistic schlock. foreigners are all bad, the west are all good except for the occasional outlier politician messing things up for the cool ROK army. really interesting to see such a classic us style action set piece translated into a different cultural framework yet be so strikingly similar i got a headache. classic terrorist movie set-pieces where they have the terrorist disguised as a woman in a burka to cause more injuries in a suicide bombing, the afghan government being incredibly corrupt and incompetent, a hard nosed soldier who was traumatised seeing innocent people die in the war on terror (but not the afghan people). mindless trash in that classic action movie style designed to glamorise the intervention in the middle east.

The Boys. a docudrama??? hard to say as its based off a real case but the opening text crawl made a huge effort to say how far away from the source material the film is. a detective moves to a new precinct where an old robbery homicide case catches his eye. he finds out his predecessor forced a confession out of three innocent teens and had them framed for the crime so its his job to bust this corruption scandal wide open. the ending “where are they now” credits says no one in the police was ever penalised for jailing three kids for 16 years so… bit of a downer even when the do the celebratory freeze frame of everyone turning out okay.

Don’t Buy The Seller. thriller about a serial killer who shops for online deals, meets the seller, murders them, sells their goods, rinse and repeat. after selling a faulty washer to a interior designer she goes around giving him negative reviews which interrupt his killing spree because aint no one trusting some 1 star guy selling an IMac, so he seeks her out. intense and a pretty unique setting for a thriller, way way better than a lot of the “technology lets killers get ya” narratives ive seen from the west. the final confrontation is wack, the killer gets smashed through windows, hammered in the head, shot with a nail gun, thrown from a building and still lives. so outlandish i was like completely shocked every time the guy gets up. pretty bloody and brutal overall but defs not a horror or something too gory for a mainstream audience to see.

Remember. a thriller about a korean retiree with dementia seeking vengeance on colonial japan for their crimes alongside in his words korean traitors. again more simple nationalistic spiel but with a john wick esque style badass grandpa murking imperial japanese war criminals. hes also hip and plays starcraft with his young hip friend who works at TGO Fridays with him. the dementia angle is a neat framing device since he makes it clear he has to seek revenge on the japanese army before his own body lets him forget what he and his family endured. some very subtle digs at ROK and the JSDF launching joint military drills as the trigger for him to remember. the officials and ex soldiers he kills are all just 2d villains, the corrupt governor who sold out koreans to japanese soldiers, the academic who frames japans colonisation as “modernising korea”, a politician who claims communism is worse than imperialism (wild moment since the film does not give him any redeeming moments to justify his anticommunist stance) all very easily dislikable and valid targets so at no point does the audience feel any sort of empathy which i vibe with, fuck imperialist collaborators am i right? also the main target is a ex JSDF general called Tojo Hisashi who is campaigning to get rid of article nine of the japanese constitution and render them able to engage in open war, subtle i know.

[pandorama-art]

art vs. artist 2022! 🎉 I love making these and reminiscing about the past few months. The only problem is that I take about 3 selfies a year and none of them turn out very good 😂 Oh well! This was the year of doing the most markets I've ever done, of finding new mediums that resonate with me (oh risography, how could I live without you until now), of growing my online shop and of refining my style and artistic voice. It was the year of developing great, inspiring friendships, of actually meeting friends from across the globe in person, of getting bunnies and eye surgery and a new iMac after frying my old one. I am feeling tired but happy on this last day of 2022. And, like many, I feel excited, scared, and uncertain about what the future holds. There is no way but forward, and I am eternally grateful for not having to go forward alone. Thank you to everyone who has supported me, who bought something from my shop, who visited my table at markets and who decided to follow me this year to see where this is going. I can't wait to find out either. Cheers! 🥂