#performance enhancements

[audivolt]

Ecu tuning for Audi A6 can offer improved performance and better fuel efficiency, but it also comes with potential risks and downsides. If you’re looking to enhance your Audi A6’s performance, ecu tuning is a popular option. The process involves modifying the engine control unit to optimize its perf...

[historyofguns]

The article, "Is a Custom Pistol a Waste of Money?" by Clayton Walker, delves into the value and advantages of purchasing a high-grade, custom-level pistol. Clayton appreciates the quality and precision of custom pistols like the 1911, which feature carefully fitted components and trigger systems that enhance their performance. However, he notes that a top-tier pistol won't necessarily compensate for a novice shooter’s lack of skill. He argues that while modern entry-level pistols offer great accuracy and reliability, custom guns with additional features can enhance shooting performance, allowing shooters to reach their full potential. He acknowledges the appeal of custom pistols’ aesthetics and potential for longevity, making them desirable investments for enthusiasts. Ultimately, Walker suggests that the decision to buy a custom pistol should balance personal value, needs, and the desire for improved shooting accuracy through upgraded equipment.

[sable-skies]

headcanon: twilight does that nervous dog side eye thing when bothered

[clickityweasel]

my job is not an arty job, but my manager is capitalising on the fact that i can draw, and i am an enjoyer of drawing-based work because it's not something i normally get paid for, so the task of "draw like 30 different animals for a card game" is a win win situation.

what i have learned, however, is that i cannot draw animals. they come out Bad. the proportions are off, they're stiff and weird, sometimes they don't even look like the right animal. drawing people? great sign me up! animals? apparently? no can do boss. i was sending over sketches and my manager was so greatly Not A Fan of my terrible animals that she very gently suggested just printing off some random pngs from canva. other coworkers were less gentle with my sweet delicate feelings.

however i have whatever the opposite of imposter syndrome is, and after a long and painful struggle discovered the secret hack to become instantly Pretty Decent at drawing animals. out of nowhere, i was able to produce many pictures of animals that ranged from Passable to Not Even That Bad, Actually. my confidence was unfaltering. but this hack comes with a cost.

i can only draw animals while listening to ABBA.

now i enjoy a bit of ABBA! but a man has limits. and that limit was crossed somewhere during the second full day of nonstop ABBA during which time i began to develop some form of swedish disco stockholm syndrome. two more days in and i was singing some real deep cuts, word for word. i tried other artists but none could evoke my latent animal drawing abilities like ABBA could, so i was trapped. i tried many times to break free of my disco placebo, but it was no use. i was trapped in a hell of my own hubristic making.

now i would share with you some of my improved animals, the good shit, the ones drawn using the performance enhancing drug that is ABBA's discography, but when someone inevitably reverse image searches one and finds out exactly where i work, i'll feel a bit silly, so you're going to have to trust me that they're worlds apart from..... these.

(unkind, if wholly accurate commentary from my beloved manager)

anyway, this post is actually a success story. after a number of days (i don't care to mention how many) and a slow descent into an ABBA-induced break with reality, i finished all the animals. every single one. i had done it. they were printed, and i was free. my manager was delighted. she said they looked great.

so great, in fact, that she wants me to make a second set. with different animals. so it is back to square one with my good friends and companions agnetha, björn, benny, and anni-frid.

all this is to say that, boss, if you change your mind, im the first in line, honey im still free, take a ch

[painted-bees]

Margie doesn't banter with the crowd during concerts, but she carries the music.

[oc]

[fictionadventurer]

Me when St. John first speaks: Unfortunately, my imagination has given him a really good voice. I may have to root for him over Rochester.

Me after St. John says more words: Never mind.

[thepersonalquotes]

Nothing could be any worse than having to turn to your friends, your colleagues and your loved ones and say –‘I gave up too soon’.

Steve Backley, The Champion in all of Us: 12 Rules for Success

[violent138]

Like father, like son.

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

I had the opportunity the past couple of days to revisit some of Benedict's work from over a decade ago. Namely, Parade's End

and The Imitation Game.

What a pleasure to go back and be reminded of why I fell in love with such a brilliant, talented, intuitive, compassionate (specifically regarding the foibles of human nature) Actor! He always thoroughly embodies the character, living and breathing them into life. One can feel the character's truth sourced from his very soul ~ as though each element of that character is a part of him, and he just taps into them to make us see and understand their struggles and pain. It hits me directly in my heart, and I am both better & grateful for the insight into humanity.

The man should have ALL the freaking awards by now...but I suppose that those who vote on such things lack the gift of reckognizing his gift. And that such awards aren't fully based on merit, but on whose 'turn' it is to win (*cough,cough* The Slapper) or some other ridiculous Hollywood popularity game. I know that Benedict says time and again that he doesn't care ~ but this Fan always will.

GREATEST ACTOR

OF HIS

GENERATION

[lsunstreakerl]

Max pole? Isaak Q3? That’s the impact of the mittie milk 🙂‍↔️

LMFAO OKAY POINT MADE

[audivolt]

Audi’s leasing programs are designed to offer customers flexible and affordable options for acquiring a new vehicle. These programs provide a range of benefits, including lower monthly payments, the ability to upgrade to newer models more frequently, and the ability to customize the vehicle to meet ...

[strawberryspuff]

(TW: Drug abuse spoken about lightheartedly)

Animatic based on the @tiptoeingquietly fic once again!

This audio was just too perfect lmaooo (creds to Doechii)

Read it here or never understand the context:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61257943/chapters/156556618

[orbitinthegalaxy]

this is a lil something I threw together in november, inspired by chapter 6/7 of @screams-in-writing’s “Performance Enhancing Coffee” fic on ao3!

I originally intended posting it as a collage of drawings based on this fic, but it got abandoned…and I found it collecting dust in my files. (I really should’ve posted it sooner, but better late than never, lmao.)

this is my second actual drawing of mr puzzles, so I’m still getting used to it, lol

[paunchbunny]

trans girlfriend who forcemascs you into the perfect fat subby butch. she just came out and started hrt and she wants to be a classic femme, and for that she needs a cute butch toy, right? she shows you how her tits are growing and sensitive then gropes yours and tells you she’s going to make sure they get nice and big too. she shows you off on dates at restaurants where she smiles that cruel, sweet little smile and taps on the menu to show you what to order - tap tap tap tap tap tap tap. she sits next to you at the bar, ordering beer after beer for you to pound back, stealing the occasional sip and stroking your growing beer gut. she loves it when you eat all her nice cooking, cherry pie on top of steak and potatoes, then lie in front of the TV nursing beers until your stomach creaks. she loves you drunk and sleepy and full, never more than when you roll over on top of her and she can feel how fucking big she’s gotten you. she loves having you on all fours and fucking the burps out of you, femme on top of a butch whose belly hangs down to press against the bed. she loves being in charge of your body, your clothes, your belly. she loves that she controls how strangers see you and that your friends know you’re like this because she’s made you like this. you love her control.

femme gf feeder with butch gf feedee my beloved 🌹

pls help me pop the buttons off my Hawaiian shirts (standard butch uniform ofc)

[screams-in-writing]

Posting from the comfort of the bed I’m about fall asleep in, here’s a late pseudo Valentine’s Day thing that is both sappy and angsty b/c I just can’t help myself.

Note 1- I wrote this all out in one go, so there could be typos.

Note 2- I haven’t decided if I’ll have puzzle park stuff in the long fic, so this is a kind of a what-if aftermath scenario.

It had been a very long day at the cafe.

By the time you reached home (only a few blocks away) you were all but ready to collapse onto the sofa. There was no plan to go all the way up the stairs to get to your bedroom, so the sofa it was. Your roommates weren’t due to get back to the house until later in the day, so you could crash for a few hours.

Or so you’d hoped, until entering the darkening house and seeing the distinct shadowy shape of a certain tv-headed man who was sprawled out over the sofa you’d intended to flop on yourself. Frowning in thought, you closed the front door and locked it as you stared at the stolen sofa. Mr. Puzzles hadn’t mentioned that he was going to stop by today; he’d not sent you any messages for a few days, come to think of it. Stepping through to the kitchen, you use at the sight of a vase of roses that most certainly hadn’t been there before. A mix of colors, as if one couldn’t be decided upon. There was also an envelope with your name on it. A quick glance told you that Mr. Puzzles was still in one spot.

You didn’t think Valentine’s Day would be so subdued from someone who made a spectacle of your birthday, but here you were. You almost expected a dinner, date and movie cliche from the man, but maybe recent events had Puzzles rethink making a grandiose deal of this day.

The envelope was opened.

A simple outline of a cartoon heart was stamped on the front; inside was a simple ‘Thank you for giving me another chance.’

It was unsigned.

You recognized the handwriting anyway, seeing as Mr. Puzzles couldn’t help but write all over your and your fellow podcast members’ scripts. Or to eagerly offer you a new script of his own for you to read, antenna on top of his metal head perked up expression focused on you when you read one.

The card answered your earlier question.

Mr. Puzzles was still hesitant over where the two of you stood relationship-wise after the disaster that was Puzzle Park.

A slow sigh left you, tracing the handwriting on the card before turning it over to look on the back and rolling your eyes fondly. In one corner was Mr. Puzzles’ logo stamped there. The one that he used for his different ventures. What a silly man he was, specifically making a line of Valentine’s cards to sell (and possibly other holidays planned) so that he could give you something of his own in the process, along with the roses.

Shaking your head again, you put the card by the case and backtrack to the living room, not stopping until you stood alongside the sofa, to stare down at a still-asleep Mr. Puzzles.

The sight of his long legs thrown over one end of the sofa was amusing as it always was; his knees over the arm if the sofa, and his tv head resting on a two sofa pillows to prevent his antenna from pressing into fabric.

Eventually, an idea came to mind, and you shuffled over to lightly pet along the side of Puzzles’ head.

Nothing.

Good, that meant you had time to trap him before he could sneak away again, since you’re fairly certain that Mr. Puzzles hadn’t meant to fall asleep and still be here when you got back home. Maybe he felt guilty over not speaking to you, maybe he didn’t think you wanted to see him. Maybe you should ask him yourself, when he woke up.

But no matter the answer, you were sure of the actual meaning behind the roses and the card when paired with the words written within.

Mr. Puzzles brought you a peace offering hidden behind a Valentine’s Day gift.

You had an answer for him, and, withholding a grin, carefully crawled on top of Puzzles and settled on him comfortably. There was a twitch and a static noise from the darkened tv screen but the man didn’t wake up.

Perfect.

Reaching up, you undid the bow tie and two buttons of the dress shirt, glancing up now and again to assess for any motion that would indicate Mr. Puzzles waking up.

Nothing.

Completely out.

No wonder, too, with the stupidity of what this man had done to his own body when he went off on another power trip in an amusement park of all places; you wanted to have a word with Puzzles’ parents, if they happened to be around.

Smg4 and his crew too.

And Puzzles himself.

So many conversations needed to be had, and it was absolutely and utterly infuriating that so much progress had been lost for miscommunication and assumptions about one party to another.

“My dear, not that I’m opposed to it but…if your plan is to divest me of my dress shirt, I’m afraid you will be unable to do so while lying on top of me.”

The ticklish sensation of a powered on television set could be nearly felt, close as you were to Puzzles’ shoulders. Flicking the parted collar of the dress shirt, you promptly face-planted into the area where the human part of his neck was attached via wire and other metals, covered in a smooth barrier of cloth that blended the wires wrapped around the neck to brace it were.

“This might be better.” Mr. Puzzles announced in a strained voice, right after releasing a startled noise. He let out an interested hum next, one hand moving to rest lightly over your upper back. “Good evening.”

Awkward.

Uncertain.

You remained in place, then lifted one arm to drape over Mr. Puzzles’ other arm to keep it trapped against the side of the sofa. Breathing out a slow breath, you felt the way Puzzles shuddered over the sensation, his fingers flexing in a twitch over your back before settling, then languidly trace along after a moment.

“I wasn’t planning to fall asleep…” The words tapered off, followed by the telltale sound of the man’s expressions flipping around before settling on something. “…you want me to stay?”

“I saw the card.” You murmured into the wires, lifting your free hand to rest over the exposed collarbone, the skin cooler to the touch, but not as cold as the metal and wire woven in and out of it. “…some people don’t think I should give you more chances.”

“Ah.” Mr. Puzzles shakily moved his hand from your back to rest over your hand, gently patting. “That’s…it’s still rather tender there.”

You turned your hand over and clasped Puzzles’, but he merely guided you before letting go of your hand to have it rest over his shoulder. “Better?”

“Yes.” Mr. Puzzles lapsed into silence; it was uncharacteristic enough that you levered yourself up on your right forearm to get a good look at the man’s expression.

Averted digital eyes, furrowed brow, neutral technicolor smile.

This, and the lack of immediate clinging to you, told you that there may be genuine regret for his actions this time around when it came to Smg4 and his friends.

“Just so you know, Tiffany says you’re welcome to work in the cafe again. If you want, when you’re not in the podcast room crossing out sentences on the scripts.” You say, not ready to touch the subject that was Puzzle Park. Right now, you just wanted to spend time with Puzzles, without accusations being tossed about that he had been manipulating you behind the scenes, when you’d been blissfully (for the most part) unaware of the amusement park until someone contacted you when most of Smg4 and his friends has gone inexplicably missing.

Later.

There would be time to unpack that later, when things had settled down in Mr. Puzzles’ home world, and Swag stopped attempting to capture him to put him into an underground bunker prison.

Which would only make everything worse, to isolate Mr. Puzzles. That was the last thing he needed, and-

A gloved finger gently prodded the middle of your forehead.“You’re thinking very hard, my dear.” Another poke. “Don’t keep this expression for too long or it might freeze that way.”

You didn’t ask what the expression was; instead, you refocused, and saw Mr. Puzzles had tilted his head up so his screen could face you a little better. It looked painful in the neck, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by it. For now.

“What are you thinking about now?”

“You.”

“…”

While the man may not have said anything, there was a quick flash of surprise, longing, then weary happiness. “I was thinking about you too, while I was running to come over here.”

“…why were you running?”

“Swag found out I was headed here, to visit you, and I just barely outran the tank-”

Tank?!

“-and I did know some shortcuts, which was why I was able to get here without too much trouble, but I do think that I may have to ask someone to make sure that Swag isn’t just. Just camping out and waiting for me to return.” Mr. Puzzles sighed theatrically as he leaned his metal head back on the pillows to stare up at the ceiling with a faintly annoyed expression.

You…think you may postpone visiting Mr. Puzzles’ home world, at least until Chris managed to convince Swag to leave the tv headed man alone for the time being.

“The offer of the cafe is a tempting one, but I think…” Mr. Puzzles voice wavered, then, quietly. “I believe I’d rather just spend some time with you, if you’re willing.”

Just showing up to your world was answer enough for you; the roses and the card helped too. But instead of speaking, you just levered yourself up along Mr. Puzzles’ frame to lean your head against the side of his tv one.

He went perfectly still beneath you, hands moving as if to touch, but held himself back, the doubt still present in his actions.

Pressing your head harder against his, feeling a little static from the edge of the screen, you carefully looped one arm around the back of his neck. Once Puzzles slowly, hesitantly, wrapped his arms around you, you looped your other arm around the back of his metal head. Settling on your side carefully so his tv head was partially cradled onto you, you whispered into the vent. “You kept me out of the danger when it mattered. We talked. We spent time alone from one another. I don’t understand the why, but you don’t have to tell me, so long as talking to someone else is helping.” You encouraged Mr. Puzzles to turn his head slightly so you could see the screen. “We’ve done this before, and we can get through it again. Please, don’t keep isolating yourself. If you need me to tell you over the phone or text that I do want to see you, I can do that.”

The screen dimmed to static for a few minutes before the ‘face’ returned, a very brief sight of teary eyes before Mr. Puzzles finally looked at you, the digital eyes directly on you, along with an uncertain smile.

To this, you leaned in and offered a brief grin before peppering the tickle static screen with kisses, pleased to hear the spluttering.

Mr. Puzzles suddenly hugged you to him, after making certain that he wouldn’t accidentally headbutt you. There were no tears, as he couldn’t physically cry any longer, but the breathy, shuddering sounds were there. The flickering screen indicated an inability to settle on any one expression. Eventually, it did, and the static was loud in the sudden silence.

“I can stay, for a little while?”

“As long as you want, so long as we get off to my room before Derek or Rose get back.” You felt the underside of Puzzles’ metal head nuzzle you, and felt a little better at hearing the low chuckle.

“How scandalous, to be found lying peacefully on the sofa together.” A soft, light teasing as you were held closer. “Are you…is this comfortable?”

“Only if you keep holding me like this.”

“I…you’re…” A light tremor went through Mr. Puzzles whole frame before he let out a facsimile of a sigh as he did so. “Of course I will.” A moment of quiet. “…thank you, for letting me stay.” Another long silence, and then, a bare whisper. “I’m sorry.”

It was a start.

“Me too.”

A soft laugh; a quieter murmur of thanks.

Better to communicate, than to remain silent.

As a bonus for being nice to Mr. Puzzles while he was still navigating the bridges he’d burned for a second time, you were ever so rudely (aka mercilessly teased) about the combination of roses and a few other flowers you’d missed in the vase by Rose, who’d entered the living room via the kitchen.

Because of course Mr. Puzzles would find a way to both apologize and attempt to woo you at the same time.

Smug man that he was, Puzzles enjoyed your blush before quickly leaning over to press his screen to a cheek, and, after making a kissing noise, leapt to his feet and booked it for the front door like he expected Rose’s look to set him on fire despite the distance.

The joke was on Mr. Puzzles when he realized that his bow tie was missing and half his dress shirt had been undone.

The later fluster was worth waiting for once you were done with your next shift, and you found Puzzles in the house at the edge of town, and upon seeing you, and the bow tie you held up, he flushed.