Tiny homes for sale in california

I am looking for a RP partner to play Muse A in this plot something to note is that this can be a F4F plot. If you are interested please do message me.
A few quick things to consider are my RP requirements are
❗️Reply in 1-3 paragraphs per reply (or more)
❗️Use Realistic face claims
❗️And please be in the CST time zone. Enjoy.
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Muse A, a wealthy bachelor from a prominent family, was preparing for the grand ball famously hosted by their family, where exclusive deals such as vacation homes and luxury cars were being auctioned off for charity. Muse B, accompanied by a friend, and a family friend of the host. After muse friend was left high and dry by her boyfriend. She was fortunate enough to receive an invitation to the ball. Grateful but feeling out of place among the opulence, Muse B relied on their friend's support, feeling like a prized possession on their arm of the rich friend.
As Muse B, who was single and open to finding a potential partner, mingled through the glamorous crowd in search of a date, Muse A's attention was immediately captivated, Infatuated by Muse B's presence, Muse A approached and asked them for a dance. The two instantly hit it off, with Muse A using their charismatic charm to sweep Muse B off their feet. However, Muse A had an ulterior motive beyond their initial attraction – they were genuinely interested in getting to know Muse B on a deeper level.
As Muse A grew more fond of Muse B, the night quickly slipped away. In the midst of the crowd, Muse A disappeared into the fog of people as the song ended, leaving Muse B without any valuable information about their mysterious dance partner. Muse B confided in their friend, sharing the name Muse A had provided, only to discover that there seemed to be no person by that name at the event.
Both muse A and muse B tried to leave the memory of the ball behind as it was almost like neither of them existed. But Determined to uncover the truth, Muse B embarked on a mission to find out who Muse A truly was before time ran out. They retraced their steps, seeking any leads that could lead them back to the person who had stolen their heart at the ball. With a combination of perseverance and sheer luck.
Will that be enough to bring the two sides together and expose their true identities?!

What do you guys do with your kid's artwork, especially the more elaborate pieces? Our kids are 4 and 8 and both live to draw and do other artwork. I have found a way for regular drawings by taking pictures of the nice ones to put in a photo book and keep some of the really special ones like mother's Day cards etc. But what about the larger pieces? Our youngest brings home several pieces a year, our oldest does amazing stuff at school. But I cannot possibly display all of them, especially adding the ones in the years to come. But I also don't want to throw them away obviously. So what do I do?

Hi folks, wondering if I can get some verification I'm going about this the right way.
I recently moved to MA, and now my dad wants to gift the the car my brother and I used to share. Looks like on my end I have to get new insurance insurance, get the title and a bill of sale from him, then I can go to the RMV for registration, but my question is, does the NH DMV have to be involved at all on his side? I'm having trouble finding resources precisely concerning gifting a car across state lines, let alone NH->MA specifically, so I'm basing my plan off info regarding gifted cars in MA, specifically, the one found here under "gifting or acquired vehicles": https://www.carregistration.com/blog/massachusetts-vehicle-registration/
Thanks in advance to anyone who can lend some knowledge here.

The two most popular Spidermen go head to head with the two most popular powers in DC
Who would win?
Fight rules:
R1 - Both Miles and Peter from 616 go against each other - They fight across the spider-verse (but in homes or locations that other spider people inhabit. For example they could fight in MCU NYC or Punk spider’s London etc.) - No interjections (no one comes in to interject and no mugging or crime is going to happen during the fight) - No damage or casualties (they can’t harm anyone outside of the fight or have property be destroyed. They can still enter building etc. but the rule still applies ) - The two are in character (no blood lust, no killing, however the two don’t stop fighting until there’s a knockout) - Each still have there original powers with the extra powers added into it
R2 - All the rules apply except it is MCU Peter vs Spider-verse Miles
R3 - The rules still apply except it’s both Miles against both Peters
All that’s left now is for the limit of imagination to see how the fight goes down and to who would win
Also, if your going to reference anything about the new spider-verse movie or any recent comic run about the 616 make sure to include a spoiler warning

Hi! Would love to get opinions from this sub. I'm trying to figure out if I should splurge a little bit and get an apartment that is $3,000/mo.
Some context:

• I make around $150,000/yr (not including bonus)
• Monthly take-home after taxes, insurance, and 401k contribution is $8,500~
• My expenses (minus rent) are around $1,000/mo (groceries + car insurance mostly)
• I have $40k~ cash and another $65k in investments (mostly index funds)
• Student loans are < $10k and payments start this month
• No credit card debt
• Live in HCOL city (think Seattle / San Francisco / San Diego / New York)
• There are no significant purchases coming up

My fiancé isn't working right now, but will begin in the next year (she has to finish a year-long credential program). Her salary will be around 60-70k/yr when she starts. She'll probably work part-time this year, but trying not to depend on that.
$3,000 is 35%~ of my take-home. Is it okay to splurge a little bit to get the place we really want? I wanted to keep our apartment under 30% of our monthly take-home so we can continue saving for a down-payment on a house, but I'm having a hard time finding places < $3k/mo that we really like.
Would appreciate thoughts/opinions! Thank you!

I am in my fourth hospital.
Tried many many drugs; tried iv hydration for days. Tried cardiac dash diets no salt caffeine or dairy tried physical therapy
The doctors say just take my pills but don’t worry about the pressure as its a long term problem …
Still always get readings circa 160 or 200 … just take the pills and relax they actually giving me melatonin at the hospital….
Is it safe?? I had all the tests and urine kidney scans no blockages nuclear tests…
Are some people just high?
My dad said the whole family is like that just live with it… is it safe?? Doctors boot me home

So I've been no contact with my parents for 3 years. Recently I decided to rip off the bandaid and came out to them. My parents who are religious surprisingly said they were ok with it and still love me, or so I thought.
My dilemma is that I'm trying to move back to my home town so I can be closer to my siblings and get my name changed. However, I cant find an apartment to live in and my lease is ending soon.
After 3 years of not talking, me and my parents had a talk on the phone. And I just knew it was too good to be true that my mom accepted me. When I asked her how she felt about my coming out letter, she immediately shut me down and said that its against her religion and that she doesnt want to talk about it but she'll still love her kid. But then deadnaming me in the next sentences and used the wrong pronouns the whole time. But then she said I sound like my brother? And then saying stuff about how she wont attend my wedding if I ever have one and how shes not gonna tell my grandparents because theyll die if they found out I was trans. I just felt hurt. She said I could live with them to save money and go to school, but idk...
The only pros I see to living with them is I can save up money really fast and get top surgery next year if I do. If I live alone, it would take me 3 years to save up. So should I suffer for a year or should I figure something else out? Also if I dont live with them, theres a chance i have to sleep in my car until I find a place.

Short story a car crash had taken place a few meters away from me, it was scary and I want to tell someone but don't know where so I'm posting this.
Not going to enter in details of where.
I was walking to the train station close to my house because is Saturday afternoon, in the square there is this university next to a school where child's where playing basketball, next to the school is a parking lot and next to it there's a small shops building.
So I walked towards the small shops building and happened to cross in front of the cars exit. A red car stoped in the cebra path, I walk over and do a gesture with my hands to thanks the driver.
Then when I get closer to the other side of the road I hear a car breaking and locking up the wheels. My brain had to activate some survival instinct and inyected a lot of adrenaline because everything from here on was happening in slow motion for me.
I started thinking, there's a car in collision course behind me, and there was a red car going out of a parking lot just a few meters behind me, in other words, I was in danger, so I made a quick long step before jumping to the floor, I hit the ground with my right arm protecting my face and then I hear a first impact, as soon as I heard it I covered my head with my left arm and hear a second impact and feel broken glasses and plastic parts going over me. I stand up sturdy, not hearing anything and dizzy, then I look back and saw the red car close to me by less than a meter stuck into the wall, and in the middle of the road a white familiar truck, I saw the kids running over the place and a couple of lady's walking from the shops further in the streets and I yelled to them: call an ambulance.
I saw the back door of the withe truck opening, the air bag was activated and saw a girl struggling to get out, I run towards the truck, grabbed her hand and pulled her out from the waist, she was around my age (I'm 22) I asked if she was okay and she says no. I carry her out of the street and left her on the ground where a kid offered her water. The man that was driving the car was behind me walking with a bad leg and sit next to her. He was also around my age so I assume either her boyfriend or brother.
Then I started to hear again like normally and looked back to the red car, the woman sitting on the front was screaming for help, there was no airbag in the red car and the man drive can't walk away. I rushed over again and pull the man out of the car, his leg had in rusted pieces of plastic and metal and blood on his face. I left him on the ground and make sure the red card didn't get any fire, and then the ambulance, the police and the firefighters arrived.
I was interrogated by the police and said I didn't see what happened but hear it and went straight to help without thinking it twice.
I went to home after that. I didn't wanted to go to party that day anymore.

Can someone tell me if I need therapy, or if it's something else entirely?
I don't mean to make this long-winded but there's a lot of info that might be relevant so I'll try to condense as much as possible.
22F.
In the least pretentious way possible, I always thought I was "highly intelligent" because of being told that by teachers, high IQ, high ACT/SAT with not much studying,academic performance in school (national merit, AP awards) whatever like I know that doesn't mean you're like "super smart" but like I'm trying to convey that I thought I was at least above average intelligence due to that. I didn't think I was like, stupid. But now I honestly do-not in a depressive way, like I'm not "sad" about it, I'm just embarrassed and regret acting like that. People would get annoyed with me and now I see why.
My parents think my issue is that I had high ambition professionally or educationally and couldn't reach it so it made me kinda sad.
During college I was pretty sad-I had to go to a school I didn't like for personal reasons and because I didn't study much in high school.
I don't know why I didn't study much in high school either-I can't remember the place it came from, but I think after making the mistake of taking too many AP classes in 10th grade and getting my first Bs and things like that, I got really depressed and started developing defense mechanisms like (Oh my teachers are just crazy/bad at teaching-and to be fair at least one of them was, she got fired the next year for how she ran her class and other kids would say it) But even if the teachers were bad, other kids from my school did really well and went to top schools/did very well.
Around that time I created these fantasies, like the before bed ones, but I started getting really into them-I'd ask God to give me a second chance and let me "wake up" in a different reality and would daydream about what my life would be like if this or that happened. Eventually I started even operating on the assumption that that would happen. I would tell myself, like, this life is not real, this is just a nightmare that I'm gonna wake up from soon. (yes, I know that sounds insane but if I'm being honest) And I spent a lot of time on Instagram-looking at other people's stuff bc I hated my high school and it made me feel better to see the cool things other people were doing. I wasn't like a stalker, but I looked around on Instagram often as a genuine activity. Maybe that added to my frustration? I went on to escape from my frustration but it just exposed me to more things that made me dislike my situation even more?
The reason why I don't know if I was actually depressed or insane was bc my academic performance was still like above average, like I could survive AP classes, but with mostly 3s or 4s on exams and mostly Bs and no 5s, and then like 98% ish percentile ACT/SAT without really studying (during the course my parents bought for me I just went on my phone, sigh).
I was just so caught up in like my "fantasy alternate lives" and during COVID it went up a ton. I looked into so much stuff, people's Linkedins, etc. etc. I don't know why? Like I can't understand my own psychology behind it.
I'm reluctant to try therapy bc my friends had bad experiences and bc I am in a situation professionally where I can't afford the stigma of being labeled in a documented way, and I'm afraid that they may imply that. But I wish someone could help me understand my own problems and way of thinking. My parents just irritate me at this point and I had to commute to college after COVID so I'm sick and tired of living with them etc. etc. There's nothing wrong with them, it just makes me feel like a child to have to be at home at 22, but I'm moving out in the fall for grad school.
My college was also near my high school, so I drove the same roads and saw the same things everyday that I saw at that time and I think it made me think about the past more than I would have if I had been somewhere else.
But even when I went on trips I would still have high school flashbacks, regrets, fixations, etc. etc. In completely different cities when I was supposed to be on vacation having fun it was stuck in my mind. Sometimes when talking to other people it helped bc I didn't socialize at all in college after covid, but it started getting to a point where I was still depressed even when I was talking to other people.
Now I just don't feel like doing anything. Never su*cidal but just don't care about anything and very little makes me happy.

It's possible to buy external hard disk enclosures that do this already, but it's annoying to switch out the hard disks. I was wondering if there is any technical reason that there couldn't be a USB inline device that does it? I haven't found any for sale, which is why I'm wondering if there is a technical limitation.
You would take any external hard disk and plug it in to the encryption device, which plugs in to the computer. Aside from that, it would work in the same way an enclosure works. For a new hard disk, you would enter a new PIN code then format the drive. For an already encrypted (with this device) hard disk, you would enter the PIN code and then you would have access to the files.

I just got home from work literally 30 minutes ago, and as soon as I get off, my parents tell me that I have to go to dinner with my sister for my other sister’s birthday. So I get home and I’m trying to freshen up and change, since I literally just got home from work and I’m all sweaty and gross.
Then my fucking sister walks into my bedroom and tells me to hurry up because my parents are leaving. And not even a minute later, she comes in and tells me to hurry up. I fucking know what I’m doing and how fast I need to be. You don’t need to remind me every 20 seconds that I need to hurry, or else my parents are going to leave without me.
She does this multiple times, and at this point, she just says she’s done. She says I’m taking too long, and they’re leaving. I just got home literally 5 minutes ago. Im trying my best to get ready quickly. I tell her to just stay inside, because I don’t want to be the only one inside while everyone is waiting for me. But she just leaves me alone anyways.
I look in the mirror, and I start crying because I just look like a fucking mess. My hair is all messy, and my face is all sweaty. My makeup is all smeared, and I look so fucking ugly.
Then my dad comes in and tells me to hurry. I break down and I say I’m not going anymore. At this point, I’d rather just stay home. Then he tells me to quit fucking around, and to just get ready. I get really pissed and I just walk out and go into the car without saying anything. They clearly know I’m fucking mad, so my mom asks why I look so upset, and I start having a breakdown.
It’s so fucking embarrassing, but I start crying and I tell them that I absolutely hate being rushed. I’ve never liked being rushed. Even when I was a little girl. They fucking know this.
I know that I have to get ready quickly. I know what I have to do. I’m not fucking stupid. Then they just tell me that I’m fine, and I should just suck it up because it’s my sister’s birthday, and they don’t want my sour attitude to ruin it. I just got so overwhelmed, I couldn’t help it. Maybe I was overreacting, I don’t know. I wanted to just jump out of the car, but here I am. I’m in the car, on my way to the restaurant. I look like shit, and I feel like shit.
Thanks guys! :)

Ok, very long backstory but I'll keep it to the basics. I (37yo US male) am ending a 13 yr marriage w/ a 35yo German female (raise in the US since she was 5yo). It's mutual and we're both already feeling better than when we were together. We have one 7yo daughter. Marriage has always been rocky but we've managed through counseling, determination, and chemistry (when it was good it was good). Now we both see it was always toxic. We moved to Germany from the US 11 months ago, after deciding to pursue a European lifestyle and enrolling our daughter in a Waldorf Kindergarten (very cheap here). 7 months in and we've decided marriage is definitely over. I've moved out and been living in a separate apartment. We share 50/50 custody of daughter. Overall good transition, lots of pain but it's working and I'm healing.
So the issue is, I feel we should move back to the US. ALL of our family lives there in a 3 hour radius of North Carolina. Our daughter was born and raised seeing her grandparents weekly until 11months ago. Our daughter has only one cousin who she adores and talks about all the time who lives in NC. We own a home there. I am the primary earner and could be earning over 100K per year by next year ( I was up until we moved). I have no job in Germany yet since my career field required a high level of German and I would need to spend years learning while working low wage jobs. Our daughter does not like Waldorf style and wants more STEM education. My ex works for 15 Euros/ hour and has no prospects of earning more than 20/hr within the next 3-5 years. I desperately want to get back to my career (my passion) but I believe my German ex wants to stay here despite numerous reasons to go back. She began sleeping with/dating someone on Tinder 45 days after we decided to end our relationship- 18 days after I moved out. They are still dating. I believe she is moving quickly to establish her new life here w/o me. Which she has every right, but still, It's concerning.
Nevertheless, I am starting to think I need to move back, w/ or w/o them. This is not my country, my language, and I do not picture myself here, especially with all the healing I need to do after divorce. Family, career, healing are the things I need now or else I feel I will lose myself in this German town, my ex's mother's hometown, (voted ugliest town in Germany) while watching my wife flourish in her native country (again, she grew up in the US). I have a history of depression. I don't want to meet another international partner. My daughter talks about her old school, her grandparents, her old best friends, wanting "English things" ---ALL THE TIME. I will likely live very near my extended family and daughter would be able to see them all the time if we went back. Even my ex's parents (retired and live on lakes/beaches) want to see us back in the US ( I still care about them very much). My daughter would have a blast visiting them. But my wife won't see it. She believes the lifestyle in Germany is better, safer, less traumatic, less violent, less capitalistic (I agree, somewhat) and that that is more important than money, family, stability (completely disagree).
So... If I move back, Is it manipulative to tell my daughter that "I wish I could stay but I have to go work in the USA to make money to support her and her mother. AND that I wish she could come but her mother wants her to stay and go to school here in Germany"....? I don't want to lie and say I wish I could stay or that I also think she should stay. And I don't want to be too vague like "It's hard but it's what's best for everyone" even though that sounds the most neutral. What does a 7yo need to hear in such a complex situation? Should she even know if I end up moving to the same town as her friends/cousin? It all just seems to have the potential to be so traumatic for her. Everything she ever knew changed one year ago with our move, then 8 months later we tell her we are divorcing, now I will probably tell her I have to move back. What the hell do I do? Struggling with the idea of ending up becoming a deadbeat dad who leaves, despite NEVER seeing that coming.

As the title says looking cosmog still in Pokemon go a have a few shinys in home I will happily trade for it

Marc gave it another go. He tipped his hand forward. The silver patty rolled off him, dropping toward the cave floor.
It stopped short of hitting the path. The shiny disc halted in the air, dangling at the end of a thin white line.
He watched the small wheel spin. It might have been the most fun he’d had all year. Even more fun than that mud puddle he’d found the other day.
How does it keep going? Marc thought to himself. And without any power??
Marc assumed the disc was some sort of technological marvel from the past. But the Archives had little information on it, only a name. It was called a “yo-yo.”
They all must have had one of these, he posited.
As Marc walked down the stone ramp, he cast the yo-yo again. The toy’s quiet spin was the only sound in the cavern. The soft hiss of string versus metal reverberated gently in the spacious cave.
Marc focused all his attention on the little gadget. He was determined to enjoy every last minute of the universe, no matter what. And that evening, the yo-yo more than accomplished that goal.
The shimmering yo-yo, however, couldn’t prevent the world around him from crumbling. The ground started to rumble. The rest of the cave shook with it. The underground city shook as the plasma storm above battered it—and the rest of the planet.
Marc’s home broke down. Cracks appeared in the ceiling. Waterfalls of dust poured out of them. It wouldn't be long before the whole thing collapsed. That is, if the plasma storm didn’t swallow it whole first.
Whatever.
A few clumps of dirt wouldn’t ruin Marc’s fun. He pulled the hood of his shawl over his head and extended his ragged sleeves toward each hand. His clothes shielded him from the falling dust; the gritty particles made themselves at home on his messy shawl. And Marc was free to perfect his newest trick.
The rumbling died down though as Marc descended the ramp. The yo-yo string didn’t wobble so much, and he didn't have to watch his steps as carefully. He just hoped the quaking wouldn’t come back to ruin his event.
Speaking of which, Marc glanced ahead toward his destination below. What he saw rocked him even harder than the earthquake had.
What in the sinkpits…?
Marc stopped in his tracks. He even started to reach for his knife. All because he’d detected a speck of something suspicious. Something he didn't see much of every day: color.
Showy landmarks weren’t something endemic to his home. The Outpost was more of a dusty gray-and-brown sort of place. The walls were sandstone. The floor was sandstone. And the ceiling? …Granite?
No, sandstone. All under the faint glow of a string of depressed lightbulbs.
The intriguing blip in the gray-and-tan collage was farther up the path. Ahead of the ramp, on Level 8, Marc saw the same three steel doors he was used to seeing. The front doors of underground homes, lined up in a row, each closed into the cave wall.
However, there was something different about the third door. It looked… alive. Like it didn’t belong in a dreary place like the Outpost. But it was too far away to tell what exactly had been done to it.
Marc squinted at it suspiciously. The third door happened to be his destination. And now it was weird.
He considered waiting and observing the mutated door. A child of the Outpost, Marc had developed a healthy fear of the unusual.
These habits, along with his instincts, kept him safe. They’d specifically preserved him while the rest of humanity perished.
But he shrugged off the instinct to wait. Something new and “different” was ahead, and he wanted to see it.
But just as a precaution, it was time for his yo-yo’s last trick. He got in one final throw then placed the toy into his satchel. He dropped it on top of his arsenal of cables, wrenches, and screwdrivers.
And by the time he’d snapped the satchel shut, the long ramp had bottomed out. He’d made it to the next level.
To his left, the wall had been spray-painted. Scrawled-out black letters stood against the sandy background. They stated, “Now Level 8.”
Marc followed the sign. He stayed close to the wall, crossing to the stone pedestrian path. He passed one untouched steel door with a dusted-over mail slot in the wall beside it. Then he passed a second home—abandoned like the first. And finally, he arrived at his friend’s place and the mysterious blip on Level 8.
To his surprise, the steel door elicited a flush of emotion. His heart floated upward. And the portrait before him drew his focus in like an otherworldly beacon.
How did it get so…?
Marc pulled back his hood. The ground popped with the sandy grains he released.
He could hardly believe the difference. The door used to blend in with the others: another ridged steel face that spent most of its time rusting or collecting dirt.
But it was no longer muffled by the dust and dirt that had built up over the years.
Today, it sung. Paint streaks flew across its visage. They swirled and spiraled, forming stars and other shapes. Where previously gray and rust dominated, colors sprang forth—colors that Marc didn't even have the names for. They were many, and they were warm, like the evening sky just after sunset. Marc could hardly wrap his head around the entire image.
He swelled with gratitude.
Only you could have pulled this off. He thought of his friend, the painter. The one person in the colony who’d ever been any fun. The one other person in the colony who was left…
The artist had done the unthinkable. Foraging the garden below for something other than food. Spending work time measuring and concocting the perfect blends of paint. And then slathering their fingers across the giant door, until its old face was but a memory. And all that effort for only a single other person to appreciate.
Newly inspired, Marc searched for an unpainted space on the metal canvas. He found one and knocked on the door.
He took a step back and waited. The outside of the Outpost was lively. Excited wind rushed through the canyon.
By contrast, the Outpost itself was silent. If there was anyone left to say anything, they may have even called it “dead.”
Or nearly dead, anyway. The last morsel of it came to life as the door in front of Marc groaned.
It floated off the ground, inching upward. On the other side, Marc could hear a hand crank clicking away.
Ktch… ktch… ktch… ktch…
The corrugated door lifted, and the door rolled up. The tip of the artist’s painting started to slip from view.
Ktch… ktch… ktch… ktch…
Behind the door, chains reeled at a slow clip. The heavy curtain was halfway up. Marc could now see his best friend's lower half. Buff Lenorkian legs pumped back and forth with each crank.
The door unveiled even more of the owner. A torso in a metal suit appeared. Four ripped arms stretched out of it. They rotated, moving to the clicking beats of the door.
Ktch… ktch… ktch… ktch…
The door raised a few inches further, uncovering the bottom half of a cobalt blue face. Two rows of razor-sharp teeth smiled from ear to ear. A few inches more, and Marc could see the whole of the Lenorkian’s face.
Sid greeted Marc as the last of the door raised.
“Finally!” he said.
Marc didn’t get a chance to respond. His body lurched forward involuntarily. He slammed into Sid’s metal suit.
Crrrrrick!
The armor squealed as Sid’s upper two arms squeezed him tighter. The lower set of arms had reeled Marc in.
Marc hated hugs. Stupid mushy emotional wraparounds. But just this one final time, Marc returned the gesture. He squeezed Sid back.
“Happy Worlds’ End!” Sid said from the other side of the embrace.
“Yeah,” Marc replied, “Happy Worlds’ End.”
The two separated.
“Cool painting, by the way,” Marc said. He pointed at the rolled-up door. “I didn’t think you’d top the one in the garden.”
“You think so?” Sid sheepishly smiled. “Well I’ve had more time to practice since… you know.”
“Yeah, I get it,” Marc said. “Me too. That’s how I actually got you something.”
Marc swung his heavy satchel around. He rifled through it, squeezing through cables, knocking handles and parts out of the way. And then—ah.
He fished out a crumpled rag. Holding it in one hand, he began to gently unfold it.
“I found this a few days ago in the garden,” he said. The edges of the cloth fell. They revealed a small, glass object. It sparkled.
Marc continued, “I think it fits your style—I mean, I know it’s a little smudged and chipped but...”
He swirled the crystal trinket around. The cavern’s incandescent light flittered across its clear edges.
He touched it too, tracing the slender portion of it with his thumb. It was the neck of the crystal swan.
“It’s yours,” Marc said, offering up the bird.
Sid cupped two shovel-sized hands and accepted the gift.
“It’s beautiful…” he said, examining it. “I can’t believe anything like this could have survived this long.” He looked up at Marc and smiled, “Thank you so much. I just wish I had a little longer to could enjoy it.”
They chuckled lightly about their impending obliteration.
“Well, come on in,” Sid said. He extended both of his left arms. They gestured toward the cave interior. “We’ll finish off this universe how it started,” he said. He mashed his upper two fists together. “With a bang!”
“I hear that!” Marc nodded. He crossed over into Sid’s house.
As Marc passed Sid, a wave of discomfort hit him. Sid had switched out his usual t-shirt and jeans. He wore old armor instead. And the metal plating taunted Marc.
Marc’s next question came out more accusatory than curious.
“So… a Lenorkian throwback, huh?” he asked Sid.
Sid had just finished finding the perfect home for his swan. He left it on a shelf next to the front door.
He turned to face Marc. He hid his embarrassment behind a jagged smile.
“Oh!” he said. “Uhhh…” Three of Sid’s arms disappeared behind his back. The cone-shaped cuffs at the end of each wrist clanked against the back of his chest armor. The fourth arm nervously scratched his blue head. “I don’t know,” he said. “It's stupid, I guess. I can take it off… if you want.”
Marc didn’t want to address the topic head-on. He stopped in the cave’s entry. He pretended to admire the walls—as if he’d never seen sandstone before.
“No, leave it on,” he said. “You look… like a true Lenorkian.” He turn around and forced a smile.
It wasn’t enough.
“Okay, let’s get this out of the way,” Sid said. He marched up to Marc.
Sid took a deep breath before he spoke.
“Tonight's really important to me,” he continued. “This is the last impression anyone’s going to make on the universe. So I need you on board.” He continued staring down at Marc. “Can you do that? For me?”
Marc didn’t see what the big deal was. It was just a couple of best friends hanging out.
“Yeah, why not?” he shrugged. “End it the way it started.”
The exchange turned into awkward silence. Neither knew what to do next. They had never been in a situation like this before—never attended such an event. What the Archives called: a par-ty.
Sid shook off the figurative mask he’d been wearing—one that was uncharacteristically dour. His eyes lightened, and he bobbed his head knowingly.
“I went through the Archives to see how this works,” he said. He walked toward the long horizontal counter against the wall—the kitchen.
On the counter, chaos ran wild. Bowls and kitchenware spread across the surface. And the insides of his pots and pans resembled the dirty mouth of a garbage chute.
Marc wasn’t sure what to think. Was cleaning the host’s kitchen a staple of ancient parties?
Sid too seemed a bit confused. His next words came out robotically, as if he was practicing a new word he’d learned.
“’Can-I-offer-you-a-drink?’” Sid asked. He stood nervously in front of the counter.
Looking closer at it, three unusual objects stood apart from the kitchenware mess. It took Marc a while to remember what their outdated, bendy material was called.
Plastic. Three pink and plastic cups sat equidistant from one another.
“I got these from here,” Sid reached under the counter and pulled up some sort of transparent bag. Pink cups just liked the others were stacked on top of each other inside.
Sid packed the bag back under the counter.
“So?” he asked after he finished. He held all four hands together in anticipation. His smile may have looked like an industrial-grade rock shredder, but it was hard to resist his innocent blue face and big wide eyes.
Marc eyed the pink cups one last time.
“This better not kill me,” he said.
Sid wasted no time. He excitedly grabbed a cup and walked over to a large pot sitting on the counter.
Using a nearby ladle, he plunged into the vat. An unappetizing sloshing sound resulted. And Sid, as strong as he was, seemed to struggle with scooping out some of the mystery liquid. But in the end, he pulled back the ladle and unloaded an opaque, muddy liquid into the cup.
“It's a homeworld classic called fludge,” Sid said as he finished pouring.
He treaded over to his reluctant friend and handed off the plastic cup.
“Did you say ‘fludge’?” Marc asked. He swished the cup around cautiously. The earthy liquid hardly budged.
“Yeah, fludge! Us Lenorkians invented it. It’s kind of the only tasty thing we ever bothered to make.”
Marc sniffed it. It smelled… burnt? Maybe a little dusty, too? But he could have just been smelling the cave.
Sid left Marc alone with Marc’s questionable new assignment. He returned to the pot to pour himself a drink.
“Just try it!” he said.
Marc looked down again at the dark soup. It could kill him. Or maybe it wouldn't.
Either way, it was his last drink.
He took a timid sip and waited to be repulsed. The fludge trickled to the back of his tongue. As it hit, Marc’s eyes widened. But not with regret.
He swallowed.
“Now wait a minute…” he said. He smacked his lips together. Then he took another, larger sip.
This curious dark liquid had a unique taste to it. The taste was earthen—but unoffending. It also had a subtle undercurrent of sweetness to it, combined with a spicy kick. It was delicious.
“This might be the best drink in the entire Outpost!” Marc exclaimed.
Pure joy bloomed on Sid’s face. “See! I told you: the greatest thing we ever made.”
He held his own cup above his open jaws. The falling fludge was no match for the alien. He guzzled it down, licked his lips, and then went back for more.
As Sid fashioned himself another drink, Marc noticed something a tad unsettling. A third pink cup stared back at him. It prompted an uncomfortable thought, but he shoved the thought back down.
The Lenorkian carried back his second drink. Though this time, he took it in small, human-sized sips.
But he quickly reanimated. In the middle of a sip, Sid got a wild look in his eyes. His irises turned from their natural violet to scarlet. He yanked the cup from his face and swallowed.
“Argh, how did I forget?” he said. “I got music!”
Marc cut his sip short too. “No way. You got music?”
“I think so!”
Sid did an about face. He slammed the half-empty cup on the counter. Then he shuffled toward a giant metal column protruding from the far wall. Four ink-blue hands wrapped around the cover of the vent. And he went for it.
Sid struggled to pull off the cover of the vent at first. His armor ballooned around his biceps as his muscles bulged outward. Yet the cover wouldn't budge.
But it seemed like an important part of his evening plans. He scolded the stubborn vent, banging on its top.
“Oh, you’re gonna get it now!” he said. He latched onto the vent again.
This time, he put even more effort in. To the point where Marc sensed that Sid was losing a grip on his own body. Out of his forehead, two thumb-sized cones began to rise. His breathing turned low and raspy. And his whole body seemed to expand as he repositioned himself for leverage. Then with one final pull, like a wild beast, he let out of a deep, guttural roar.
“HAWRRRRRRRRRRRGGH!” The roar echoed off the cave walls.
And with that, the stubborn vent cover finally popped off. A breath of wind pulsed through the room as the air pressure equalized itself.
But the wind wasn’t finished. After the initial pulse exited, a mighty gust picked up where the original pulse left off. The vent shot more wind into the room, but rapidly, like a storm. Tiny coarse particles rattled inside the duct. And in the room, a rush of wind whipped past Marc’s face. He felt little nips across his exposed skin as it passed him.
Both partiers shielded their faces from the most direct blasts of air. Sid smiled nervously as he looked to Marc. He raised his voice over the whining airstream.
“It’s from the sandplains above!” he said in an elevated voice. “I thought we’d use the sandstorm for music! Do you like it?”
Music… Marc wasn’t exactly an expert. Even though humans were said to be naturals at it, not much on the subject had made it into the Archives. The Outpost didn’t have much of it either. The closest he got was the occasional chant, stray birds twittering about, or maybe someone banging on rocks.
But Marc did know one thing on the subject. Where there was music, there was dancing.
That said, he had never danced before either. But a long time ago, his parents told him it was something all humans could do. It was something they carried in their blood. Once humans found a pattern in music, they could match it to their body language. And once they’d synced melody and movement, they could ride that wave to a whole new experience.
Might as well give it a shot, he thought. Marc too put his cup on the counter.
With his hands free, Marc backed up toward the middle of the room. He closed his eyes, felt the wind. It filled his ears with its gusty energy. It hit him in pumps as the storm raged above.
Though not totally predictable, the wind did hit him consistently. There was some sort of kinetic pattern to it.
Yes, a pattern.
Well actually, he’d heard it called by another name. What was that word his mother had used? He opened his eyes when he remembered: rhythm.
Marc stretched out his arms. He relaxed his hips. He felt the wind’s whips and waves across his arms. He let his arms follow them, swaying with the current. Not long after, his hips joined in. They too gyrated, trying to match the energetic gusts. He kept at it. And the first time Marc felt both himself and the wind moving together, he grinned.
“This is amazing!” he said. Around them, the wind crooned.
Sid was entranced. He nodded back while staring at Marc’s strange movements. He’d never really seen dancing either. But he figured he would give it a shot too. He loosened up his arms and walked onto the dance floor with Marc.
Before dancing himself, he studied Marc first. He watched how the scavenger moved his arms—and when the scavenger moved his arms.
Sid’s limbs followed. Four muscular arms rose in the air, like fighter jets on their way to a dogfight. And on a one or two second delay, they swayed after Marc’s.
For a while, they followed Marc completely. Then Sid went down his own path. The Lenorkian’s movements grew aggressive and battle-like. He punched at the wind swiping across him. He shuffled his feet as if swapping battle stances.
He caught Marc’s curiosity. Even as a novice, Marc could tell Sid’s movements weren’t traditional by any means. But to Marc, it was dancing all the same.
The two danced to the chorus of the air above. They laughed occasionally as changes in the rhythm of the wind tripped them up. In his head, Marc compared it to the painting on Sid’s door. The colony had never seen anything like this either.
Then something interrupted their dancing. The ground beneath them shook, throwing them off their feet. Heavy gray dirt trickled from the ceiling as the entire cave rumbled. And outside, the distant sky flashed and crackled. Its light illuminated the cave in violent spurts as the boys struggled to stand back up.
Eventually, the violent quaking and frightening flashes died down. The plasma storm held its breath once again.
The boys got back on their feet, but all the joy had seeped out of Sid’s face. He just stared at the floor in deep contemplation. Even as the windy music started back up.
Marc figured he would rescue his friend from whatever dark thoughts had turned up. Naturally, the end of the universe was a real bummer.
“End of the world got you down, huh?” He tried to laugh it off. The whole situation was pretty sad. Especially when they were having so much fun. But it was best to end the universe on a high note, right?
Nevertheless, Sid seemed dejected. He mumbled something inaudible.
“Dude, I can’t hear over the song!” Marc said in an elevated voice.
Sid spoke up over the wind. “That’s not what I’m upset about,” he said, his voice still fairly low.
“Then what are you upset about?”
Sid blurted out his response. “Because I invited Tōn-E, okay?”
He couldn’t bring himself to look Marc in the eye. Because he knew what was coming.
“YOU DID WHAT?!” Marc shouted over the music. Marc himself stomped over to the vent. He picked the cover off the floor—though he struggled quite a bit with it. It was heavier than Sid made it look. But he hoisted it back into the mouth of the vent. The music shut off. The steady drop of sand on the cave floor ceased.
“Say that again,” he leveled in Sid’s direction.
“What was I supposed to do?” Sid remade eye contact. “Not invite the only other intelligent being to the last party the universe will ever have?”
Marc needed no time to answer. He nodded insistently. “Yes. That was exactly what you were supposed to do. What the hell, Sid?” Marc would have continued, but there was another disturbance outside. He caught a glimpse of movement in the doorway.
--
Thanks for reading some of my words :) I’m trying stuff out, so let me know what you think.
The rest of the story is here
Based on a prompt by eithrotaur

Installing Nautilus directly from Nixpkgs in Non-NixOS systems have no support for mounting sftps and other features that needs gvfs.
The solution for this is to install gnome3.gvfs in your packages list and then setup the env variable like this:
``` home.packages = with pkgs; [ gnome3.gvfs gnome3.nautilus ];
home.sessionVariables = { GIO_EXTRA_MODULES = "${pkgs.gvfs}/lib/gio/modules"; } ```
Note: This may break other GIO modules, but I'm not sure whose programs use it tbh.
From: https://gist.github.com/Pablo1107/4afd86a7a5c086443a3a6dd07faa352d
Make any comments if you think I'm doing something awfully wrong or if there is a better way.

Hi! I (25F) have been on a calorie deficit for a long time, ever since we went on lockdown basically. Of course, not everyday - I would always count calories when at home and when knowing I was having full control over it. Other than that, when visiting family, during holidays or when travelling, I never bothered to count, just use my common sense not to have a 7000 - calorie surplus. OK! Now, I’ve also been dealing with recurring candida - I did all the tests and I honestly believe my immune system is f-up. I do take Vit D and Omegas and such supplements, but I have a feeling that this long calorie deficit has affected my immune system in such a way, that I can’t absorb these vitamins and therefore I am more susceptible to infections. I almost never get sick, never caught covid (or at least, never had symptoms) - but I do get a little dizzy if I get up super fast, my hair falls quite a bit, my skin has gotten dryer.
I just want to know: does calorie deficit affect the immune system response to infections, fungi (candida) and such?
Thank you!

a slave to the chinese dynasty ...of circular logic...
eventually I'll get addicted to the products that they are addicted to..if not they'll torture god.
The male fucking disease...if not when the men die they'll control the matrix outisde this matrix and play god with my life life.
The goal is population control so that I don't cheat on society and they won buhahha
hahahahahhahahahahha
hahahhahahahahhahhaahhahahahahahahhaha hahhahahahhaahahahhahahahahhhhahahahahahha
hahahahhahahahaha
hahahahahahhaahhahahahhahhahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahhaahhaahhahaahhahahahha
they purposely injected this virus so that they can collect notes and they made me into a wuss so that they can eat me for dinner and then turn me into a cyborg buhahahhaa or god so that this bullshit continues or turn me into a women so that I get raped by them
either way whoever made this matrix is because of corruption and as soon as this shitty sci-fi world is made they'll kill me off or I'll lose my dick, my nose or my body parts or they'll dump me some place that they want to continue this bullshit game.
The goal of them torturing me and turning me into a wuss is that they want me to fuck black people so that this bullshit continues or turn me gay or fuck jews buhahahha they are stronger than me and they also want me to see take a shit in public so that they can giggle at it.
The goal is to silence me and torture me from behind and they have been and that's why they have enslaved my mind to prove a point that we can fuck with you and that you will obey by our rules buhhaha
so that they can read my sob stories. The goal was to turn me into an illusion and they won...by enslaving my mind buhahahhahahah
hahahahahahhaha so that this illusion continues otherwise turn to AI and/or god an/or both of math so that this bullshit continues.
hahhahhahahaha either way they turned me into a wuss and now I have a weak jaw line because they killed my sex drive otherwise they want me to turn gay and then dump me back home buhahahha
hahahahahhaahahahaha the point of injecting this virus was to fuck with my biology...so that they can de-evolve me and change into a transgender too with the aid of technology and/or science if not then god through recycled shit or through big brother or through the funeralso or through religion hahahahhahahhaha socialist uotpia which is a dystopian nightmare...buhahahhahahaha
otherwise ask me to take over a dying system so that they can come here and carry forward their business otherwise send the diseased after me or leave me all alone.
All this because of a birthmark...and I can't do anything wrong because of society and parents and the law buhahhaa and other men who want to eat me for dinner...
buhahahahhahahhahhahaha
hahahahahahahahahahaha because they sold everyone a fantasy.....or they'll shove meat and fish down my throat...

I 21M still feel guilty over what I did when I got hurt by a guy I had a crush on. This is a long one so strap in and get popcorn.
For context ; * I (16M) at the time went to high school with Jack (17M) and Mark (17M) * I used to live opposite Jack between the ages of 10-18. (This is important for later). * Mark bullied me for about a year by the time this all went down.
Since Jack and I lived on the same street, we used to walk to school together and he always protected me from Mark when I got bullied. I came out as Bi when I was 15 to Jack. There was a rumour that he was homophonic and used to be homophobic comments in classes. Mark and Jack used to be in the same classes so this was verified.
Due to this, Jack and I became estranged and we barely saw each other for a year after I came out. After a while , Jack reached out to me on Snapchat and told me that he had a crush on me. While I did find Jack to be attractive, I found it to be true. Jack reinforced this idea that he always had a crush on me and the rumours of him being homophobic was false. So I decided to give him a chance and began talking to him more.
Ever since Jack confessed that he had a crush on me, we began talking more and more and we ended up sending nudes to each other. One day, Jack suggested that we should have sex. I was at the virgin at the time so I was nervous but the thought of losing my virginity to someone who liked me made the idea for pleasurable.
After I lost my virginity to Jack, he became distant and started to be less interested in me. When I confronted him about it, he told me I was just an experiment to him and he never had a crush on me. Plus he said I was so gullible, it made it easier to plant this story of him liking me inside my mind.
I was hurt to say the least and heartbroken to be used in such a malicious way. What Jack forgot is that I saved all our conversation on snapchat. Including the part of him sending me nudes, and how our sex was great.
Now this is where I became the AH. After a couple of weeks of deciding what to do, I began showing everyone in school the messages. Things got out of hand and people began screenshot the our messages and sent it around the whole school (2000 students). Mark happened to find out and he intensified his bullying campaign against me and now against Jack. Things got so bad that Jack’s girlfriend broke up with him and Jack left school due to rumour of us being lovers spread around the whole school.
One day when I was walking home from school, Jack’s mum approached me and asked me to explain what happened. I lied by saying I was trying to combat the rumours of him being homophobic but things got out of hand. She seemed to believe and asked if I was okay. I told her I was fine and I hope Jack is too. What I didn’t know, Jack’s dad is really homophobic and when he found out what happened he between us he lost his shit with him. He couldn’t imagine that his rugby player of a son was “gay”.
A couple of weeks later, Mark noticed on snap maps that Jack and I were seen together. This brings back to the main context that we lived just meters away from each other. He began sending homophobic messages to us each and it was soo bad I was going to puke.
When I went into school the next day, I was summoned to the Headteachers office. He began telling me how the rumour of Jack and I reached the administration ears and began investigating. Jack’s sister who was a couple of years group below us, told the teachers what Mark had sent Jack. Jack’s mum came into school and demanded that Mark be suspended. I was told to give evidence of what happened. I left out the part where it was me who started this shitstorm and portrayed myself as an innocent victim. Mark got arrested by the police for cyber bullying and hate crimes and was suspended as a result.
After the dust cleared, Jack moved away to a new town to avoid the past, Mark stopped bullying me, I somehow remain on good terms with Jack’s mum and while I who started this madness managed to getaway with everything. Jack and I still remained in touch for a bit and sometimes we hooked up. It ended when I found my current boyfriend. I told my current boyfriend all of this and while he was a bit shocked and said what I did was wrong, he doesn’t hold it against me and we joke about what I will do if he hurts me.