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prettygirl-gabi · 3 months ago

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Title: Soft Landings

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader x Azzi Fudd

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: After giving birth to baby Skylar, you returns home with Paige and Azzi for their first day as a family of three.

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paige05bby , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @shikaizer

There’s something about hospital mornings. They’re too bright and too slow. And everything smells like disinfectant and banana pudding that’s been sitting out too long.

I was already propped up in the bed, Skylar sleeping in her bassinet, when the nurse came in with our discharge paperwork. Paige was up and stretching like she hadn’t just spent the last two nights sleeping in a half-chair, half-human-pretzel formation. Azzi was brushing her teeth with a travel-sized brush and one sock on. She’d been crying quietly again this morning—happy tears, she said.

I felt like I’d been run over by several buses. But Skylar was here. Healthy. Perfect. And we were finally going home.

“Alright,” the nurse smiled. “Ready to go meet the world, Skylar?”

Azzi gasped and immediately scooped her up. “Nope! The world can wait. We’re on private access only for at least 24 hours.”

I laughed softly. My body still ached in strange places. My boobs felt like overinflated water balloons. I was sweating even though the room was cold. But my heart?

It had never been fuller.

Packing up was chaotic in the sweetest way. Paige had a whole system.

“Okay, baby bag, double-checked. Swaddle blanket. Car seat installed last week. You did watch the video I sent, right, Az?”

“I helped install it, Paige.”

“Yeah, but did you watch the video?”

“I was the video!”

I grinned from the bed, watching them buzz around like two over-caffeinated bees. Azzi was checking Skylar’s cap, adjusting it like she was preparing her for a photo shoot. Paige was busy making sure my water bottle, nipple pads, snacks, and every single form the hospital had given us were packed away in the overstuffed duffle.

“Alright,” Paige said, finally exhaling. “You ready, mama?”

The nurse returned with a wheelchair.

“I can walk,” I said immediately.

“Nope,” Azzi grinned, already helping me swing my legs to the edge of the bed. “Hospital policy.”

“But I feel fine—”

“Wheelchair.” Paige pointed. “Sit down, superwoman.”

I scowled, but I sat. The moment I did, I exhaled with relief. My body was not ready to be walking around like I didn’t just push a baby out 72 hours ago.

Paige picked up Skylar, who was strapped into her newborn car seat like a little burrito. Her head lolled slightly and her pouty lips parted in her sleep.

And then Paige did it.

The dad walk.

She held that car seat like it was the most precious, breakable object on Earth—elbows locked, eyes wide, moving like someone carrying nitroglycerin through a war zone. Azzi and I both burst into laughter.

“Stop laughing,” Paige said, turning slowly. “If I tilt her even slightly wrong, she’ll wake up. This is serious. I trained for this.”

Azzi leaned down and kissed my cheek before grabbing the wheelchair handles. “Alright, mama. Let’s get you and Miss Skylar home.”

The ride home was quiet, with only a few occasional whimpers from Skylar in the back seat. Paige drove like she was hauling royal cargo, glaring at every pothole and going 5 under the speed limit.

Azzi held my hand the entire way home.

I don’t know why I teared up when we pulled up to the apartment. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was hormones. Maybe it was the fact that the “Welcome Baby Skylar” banner Kayla taped to the front door was crooked and adorable and spelled ‘Skylaur’ before she crossed out the ‘u’ in Sharpie.

“I love you guys,” I sniffled.

Paige turned off the car and looked back. “We love you more.”

Once we got inside, I barely made it to the couch before Skylar started to fuss. Azzi unbuckled her and brought her over, already cooing.

“Okay, baby girl, let’s try skin-to-skin, huh?” Azzi said, slipping out of her hoodie and cradling Skylar to her chest. Within seconds, Skylar calmed, nestling right under her collarbone like she belonged there.

“She likes your heartbeat,” I whispered, watching from the couch.

“She likes her mommy,” Paige said, settling beside me and handing me a blanket. “And her mama. She knows she’s safe.”

“I thought we were gonna let people come by today,” I said, watching Skylar yawn.

Paige reached over to brush a strand of hair from my face. “We talked about it while you were sleeping. And we said no. You’re not entertaining anybody. You’re healing.”

Azzi nodded, still swaying with Skylar in her arms. “They all saw her enough at the hospital. They’ll see her soon enough. Right now, it’s just us.”

They treated me like a queen the rest of the day.

I tried to clean up after lunch? Paige took the sponge out of my hand.

I tried to fold some of Skylar’s blankets? Azzi gave me a look and pointed toward the couch like I was on a time-out.

I tried to vacuum? Paige literally unplugged the vacuum and said, “Babe. Sit. Down.”

Instead, they brought me food. My favorite food.

All the stuff I couldn’t have while pregnant—sushi, deli meat, extra espresso in my iced coffee. And they didn’t stop there. They brought out a tray full of sweet treats: brownies, sour candy, strawberry cheesecake bites.

“You’re gonna give me a sugar crash,” I groaned, halfway through my brownie.

“That’s the goal,” Azzi grinned. “Then you’ll have to nap.”

Skylar was fussy that afternoon.

Nothing crazy—just those newborn squeaks and whines that made you want to both cry and laugh at the same time. She spit up all over Paige during one diaper change, which Azzi caught in a photo and is absolutely never going to delete.

“She’s so cute,” I whispered that night, just watching her sleep in her bassinet beside our bed.

Paige was rubbing my back with one hand while scrolling through her phone with the other. “You’ve said that like thirty times today.”

“She is though.”

Azzi poked her head in from the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. “She’s gonna get a complex.”

“She’s already got one,” I muttered. “Every time we stop looking at her, she squeaks for attention.”

“Just like her mama,” Paige teased, kissing my shoulder.

“Hey,” I said. “Not wrong. But hey.”

What they didn’t prepare me for?

The breast milk thing.

I woke up at 2am sweating through my shirt and practically leaking.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, staring down at myself. “What the hell.”

Paige stirred next to me. “You okay?”

“I look like I went swimming in my own milk,” I muttered, climbing out of bed slowly. “My boobs feel like they’re gonna explode.”

Azzi helped me set up the pump, both of them whispering sleepy encouragements as I filled the freezer bags with what felt like way too much milk for someone who’d only been home for a day.

“I’m overproducing,” I said quietly, trying not to panic. “It’s too much.”

“You’re amazing,” Paige whispered. “Skylar’s lucky. We’ll make space in the freezer. Don’t worry.”

Azzi kissed my forehead as she labeled the bags. “You’re doing perfect, mama. We’ve got this.”

At 3:30am, I was still awake. Watching Skylar sleep. Her tiny hand rested near her face, lips parted, chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. She made a soft little sound and my heart flipped all over again.

“I see you,” Paige said softly from behind me.

“I’m just watching her.”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“She’s so quiet when she sleeps. Like a little angel.”

“You’re also an angel,” she murmured, gently pulling me away. “A tired one. Back in bed, baby.”

Azzi was already fluffing pillows.

“Okay, okay,” I sighed as I climbed in. “But if she cries—”

“She won’t,” Paige whispered, kissing my forehead. “And if she does, we got her.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

That night, wrapped up between them, I felt everything hit at once—the exhaustion, the soreness, the overwhelming love. Not just for Skylar. But for Paige and Azzi. For the home we’d made. For this messy, sacred, beautiful little beginning.

Skylar stirred softly in her bassinet.

Azzi’s hand found mine in the dark.

Paige pressed her cheek against my temple.

And I whispered, “I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

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what-even-is-thiss · 7 months ago

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Even if a city is incredibly car dependent, steps can be made to make it way better and more human friendly.

Making parking lots smaller, building parking garages, converting on street parking into bike lanes and handicapped accessible parking, installing bus lanes, narrowing roads and lowering speed limits, using previous parking lot space to add in apartments, small businesses, putting parking behind businesses, bike and walking lanes, parks, community centers, etc.

And some cities have like plazas and parks and stuff with different colored bricks noting parking spaces so they can be instantly converted into parking lots for events like parades, concerts, or sports home games while still functioning as a public space most of the time.

Different colored bricks can also be used to make roads in areas with lower speed limits. Then the city doesn’t have to pay to repaint those areas and in the event a road gets blocked off for a night market or parade or something it feels like more of a friendly place to walk than asphalt.

People fret all the time about how you can make such drastic changes when the whole city is built around cars oh no we can’t just change it. But there’s plenty of in between steps that cities can make. Filling in empty lots for example. You drive or walk around a lot of major American cities and suburbs, there’s a lot of empty lots. Those can be turned into dense housing, parks, businesses, parking garages, transit centers. When maintenance time comes roads can be narrowed, speed limits lowered, bike and bus lanes installed, trees and bushes planted, sidewalks widened.

There’s a lot that can be done right now if the will exists to do it. And almost all of it can or must be done on the local level.

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damienns · 9 months ago

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My GIF Making process: Screen capturing using MPV player, Organizing files, 3 Sharpening settings, Basic Coloring PSD + Actions set

This is a very long post so heads up.

I’ll try to be as thorough and true as much as possible to the way I make my gifs (I already use Photoshop Actions which I’ve long since set up but now for this tutorial I’m reviewing them to show you the exact steps I’ve learned to create my gifs 😃) and present them to you in a semi-coherent way. Also, please bear with me since English is my second language.

First things first. Below are the things and tools we need to do this:

Downloaded 4K or 1080p quality videos (let’s all assume we know where to get these—especially for high definition movies and tv series—so this post doesn’t get removed, okay? 😛)

Adobe Photoshop CC or the CS versions can work as well, but full disclosure I haven’t created gifs using the CS versions since 2020. I’m currently using Adobe Photoshop 2024.

mpv player. Use mpv player to get those frames/screenshots or any other video player that has a screen grabber feature. I’ve used adapter for the longest time but I’ve switched to mpv because the press to screenshot feature while the video is playing has been a game changer not to mention ultimate time saver for me. For adapter you need to play it in another video player (like VLC player), to get the start and end timestamps of the scene you want to gif which takes me ages before I can even open Photoshop.

Anyway! Please stop reading this post for a moment and head over to this amazing tutorial by kylos. She perfectly tells you how to install and use mpv player, both for Mac and Windows users.

One thing I have to share though, I had a tough time when I updated my MacOS to Sonoma since MPV is suddenly either duplicating frames or when I delete the duplicates the player seems to be skipping frames :/ I searched and found a solution here, though it didn’t work for me lol. My workaround for this in the meantime is decreasing the speed down to 0.70 then start screenshotting—it’s not the same pre Sonoma update but it works so I’ll have to accept it rather than have jumpy looking gifs.

Now, after this part of kylos’ tutorial:

you can continue reading the following sections of my gif tutorial below.

I want to share this little tip (sorry, this will only cater to Mac users) that I hope will be helpful for organizing the screenshots that MPV saved to the folder you have selected. Because believe me you don’t want to go through 1k+ of screenshots to select just 42-50 frames for your gif.

The Control + Command + N shortcut

This shortcut allows you to create a new folder from files you have pre-selected. As you can see below I have already created a couple of folders, and inside each folder I have selected screenshots that I want to include in one single gif. It's up to you how you want to divide yours, assuming you intend to create and post a Tumblr gifset rather than just one gif.

Another tip is making use of tags. Most of, if not all the time, I make supercorp gifs so I tag blue for Kara and red (or green) for Lena—just being ridiculously on brand and all that.

Before we finally open Photoshop, there's one more thing I want to say—I know, please bear with me for the third? fourth? time 😅

It's helpful to organize everything into their respective folders so you know the total number of items/frames you have. This way, you can add or delete excess or unnecessary shots before uploading them in Photoshop.

For example below there are 80 screenshots of Kara inside this folder and for a 1:1 (540 x 540 px) Tumblr gif, Photoshop can just work around with 42-50 max number of frames with color adjustments applied before it exceeds the 10 MB file size limit of Tumblr.

Sometimes I skip this step because it can be exhausting (haha) and include everything so I can decide visually which frames to keep later on. You'll understand what I mean later on. But it's important to keep the Tumblr 10 MB file size limit in mind. Fewer frames, or just the right amount of frames, is better.

So, with the screenshot organization out of the way, let's finally head over to Photoshop.

Giffing in Photoshop, yay!

Let’s begin by navigating to File > Scripts > Load Files into Stack…

The Load Layers window will appear. Click the Browse button next.

Find your chosen screenshots folder, press Command + A to select all files from that folder then click Open. Then click OK.

After importing and stacking your files, Photoshop should display the following view:

By the way, I'll be providing the clip I've used in this tutorial so if want to use them to follow along be my guest :)

If you haven't already opened your Timeline panel, navigate to Windows > Timeline.

Now, let's focus on the Timeline panel for the next couple of steps.

Click Create Video Timeline, then you’ll have this:

Now click the menu icon on the top right corner then go to Convert Frames > Make Frames from Clips

Still working on the Timeline panel, click the bottom left icon this time—the icon with the three tiny boxes—to Convert to Frame Animation

Select Make Frames From Layers from the top right corner menu button.

So now you have this:

Go and click the top right menu icon again to Select All Frames

Then click the small dropdown icon to set another value for Frame Delay. Select Other…

The best for me and for most is 0.05 but you can always play around and see what you think works for you.

Click the top right menu icon again to Reverse Frames.

I think Photoshop has long since fixed this issue but usually the first animation frame is empty so I just delete it but now going through all these steps there seems to be none of that but anyways, the delete icon is the last one among the line of feature buttons at the bottom part of the Timeline panel.

Yay, now we can have our first proper GIF preview of a thirsty Lena 😜

Press spacebar to watch your gif play for the very first time! After an hour and half of selecting and cutting off screenshots! 😛 Play it some more. No really, I’m serious. I do this so even as early (lol) as this part in the gif making process, I can see which frames I can/should delete to be within the 10 MB file size limit. You can also do it at the end of course 🙂

Now, let’s go to the next important steps of this tutorial post which I’ve numbered below.

Crop and resize to meet Tumblr's required dimensions. The width value should be either 540px, 268px, or 177px.

Convert the gif to a Smart Object for sharpening.

Apply lighting and basic color adjustments before the heavy coloring. I will be sharing the base adjustments layers I use for my gifs 😃.

1. Crop and Resize

Click on the Crop tool (shortcut: the C key)

I like my GIFs big so I always set this to 1:1 ratio if the scene allows it. Press the Enter key after selecting the area of the frame that you want to keep.

Side note: If you find that after cropping, you want to adjust the image to the left or another direction, simply unselect the Delete Cropped Pixels option. This way, you will still have the whole frame area available to crop again as needed and as you prefer.

Now we need to resize our gif and the shortcut for that is Command + Opt + I. Type in 540 as the width measurement, then the height will automatically change to follow the ratio you’ve set while cropping.

540 x 540 px for 1:1

540 x 405 px for 4:3

540 x 304 px for 16:9

For the Resample value I prefer Bilinear—but you can always select the other options to see what you like best.

Click OK. Then Command + 0 and Command + - to properly view the those 540 pixels.

Now we get to the exciting part :) the sharpen settings!

2. Sharpen

First we need to have all these layers “compressed” intro a single smart object from which we can apply filters to.

Select this little button on the the bottom left corner of the Timeline panel.

Select > All Layers

Then go to Filter > Convert for Smart Filters

Just click OK when a pop-up shows up.

Now you should have this view on the Layers panel:

Now I have 3 sharpen settings to share but I’ll have download links to the Action packs at the end of this long ass tutorial so if you want to skip ahead, feel free to do so.

Sharpen v1

Go to Filter > Sharpen > Smart Sharpen…

Below are my settings. I don’t adjust anything under Shadows/Highlights.

Amount: 500

Radius: 0.4

Click OK then do another Smart Sharpen but this time with the below adjustments.

Amount: 12

Radius: 10.0

As you can see Lena’s beautiful eyes are “popping out” now with these filters applied. Click OK.

Now we need to Convert to Frame Animation. Follow the steps below.

Click on the menu icon at the top right corner of the Timeline panel, then click Convert Frames > Flatten Frames into Clips

Then Convert Frames > Convert to Frame Animation

One more click to Make Frames From Layers

Delete the first frame then Select All then Set Frame Delay to 0.05

and there you have it! Play your GIF and make sure it’s just around 42-50 frames. This is the time to select and delete.

To preview and save your GIF go to File > Export > Save for Web (Legacy)…

Below are my Export settings. Make sure to have the file size around 9.2 MB to 9.4 MB max and not exactly 10 MB.

This time I got away with 55 frames but this is because I haven’t applied lighting and color adjustments yet and not to mention the smart sharpen settings aren't to heavy so let’s take that into consideration.

Sharpen v1 preview:

Sharpen v2

Go back to this part of the tutorial and apply the v2 settings.

Smart Sharpen 1:

Amount: 500

Radius: 0.3

Smart Sharpen 2:

Amount: 20

Radius: 0.5

We’re adding a new type of Filter which is Reduce Noise (Filter > Noise > Reduce Noise...) with the below settings.

Then one last Smart Sharpen:

Amount: 500

Radius: 0.3

Your Layers panel should look like this:

Then do the Convert to Frames Animation section again and see below preview.

Sharpen v2 preview:

Sharpen v3:

Smart Sharpen 1:

Amount: 500

Radius: 0.4

Smart Sharpen 2:

Amount: 12

Radius: 10.0

Reduce Noise:

Strength: 5

Preserve Details: 50%

Reduce Color Noise: 0%

Sharpen Details: 50%

Sharpen v3 preview:

And here they are next to each other with coloring applied:

Congratulations, you've made it to the end of the post 😂

As promised, here is the download link to all the files I used in this tutorial which include:

supercorp 2.05 Crossfire clip

3 PSD files with sharpen settings and basic coloring PSD

Actions set

As always, if you're feeling generous here's my Ko-fi link :) Thank you guys and I hope this tutorial will help you and make you love gif making.

P.S. In the next post I'll be sharing more references I found helpful especially with coloring. I just have to search and gather them all.

-Jill

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dj-of-the-coven · 7 months ago

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How to Burn Your Own CDs - a guide for Windows users

Are you--yes, you!--tired of paying money to stupid shit like spotify for your music? Do you hate the way that the music industry takes almost all the profit that bands make through streaming and leaves them with pennies? Have you ever wanted to fire up that old CD-Radio in the corner of your bedroom, only to be stopped because all you have on CD is Weezer's blue album and a copy of Kidz Bop 16 that you don't remember buying? Well this guide just might be for you!

Materials you'll need:

A computer. Can't do it without this one.

A CD drive. It can be internal or external, but you'll need one either way. You can find them at Office Depot for fairly cheap and I've heard that some Walmarts carry them.

A pack of CD-Rs. CD-Rs, or CD Recordables, come in packs of 20, 50, or 100. A proper 100-pack should cost you no more than $30, so unless there's some special shortage in your area, don't buy from anywhere selling them at a markup. CD blanks are literally 50c a piece.

CD cases. Sold wherever CD-Rs are, but you can also find these at thrift stores pretty easily.

A sharpie or some kind of permanent marker

Software you'll need:

Jdownloader. You can acquire mp3s through Bandcamp if you're dedicated to righteousness, but for everyone else, install jdownloader or some other kind of open-source download program. I will be proceeding as if you have jdownloader available.

Windows media player. This should open automatically when you insert a CD-R into your CD drive.

Fre:ac audio converter. This is only for the occasion that you encounter OPUS or mp4a files that cannot be interpreted by your CD player.

Note: If you're very determined not to download software onto your computer, you can use free youtube downloaders and audio converters, but these are subject to viruses and other issues such as download speed. I will be proceeding as if you have the programs I listed.

The process:

Decide what you want to burn--anything goes, but keep in mind the time limit on your CD-Rs. Most will record 90 minutes or less.

Open jdownloader, switch to the linkgrabber tab, then paste youtube links in any order until you have all the music you want. I'd personally recommend doing it song-by-song instead of a full album stream, because a massive file will require a lot of work to separate back into searchable tracks.

De-select all files except audio on the right-hand side options menu.

Make a folder inside the music folder of your laptop and label it with the name of your mix CD.

In the properties tab of each song on jdownloader, change the destination folder to the folder you've just created.

Hit "start all downloads".

Once finished, open each folder. If everything is an .mp3 or a .wav, skip the next 2 steps.

Open Fre:ac audio converter to convert all audio files that aren't .mp3 or .wav into .mp3 or .wav.

Drop the converted files next to the unconverted files in your folder. If you wish, you can delete the originals to make the folder easier to browse.

Put your blank CD-R into the CD drive. If external, plug in your CD drive first or the tray will refuse to open.

Windows media player will open automatically. On the right-hand side, you will see the tracklist of your CD-R (which should be blank). On the left, you will see the audio that your computer is able to find in the music folder. Put your selected tracks IN ORDER onto the tracklist.

Listen to the beginning and ending of each track to make sure there isn't a significant time gap. This also prevents accidentally burning a youtuber's stupid outro if you missed it before.

When satisfied, hit "start burn".

On an external drive, the CD tray will open upon completion. You can reinsert it to ensure that the burning went smoothly.

Once satisfied, remove the CD from your drive. With your sharpie or permanent marker, write the name of the album on the front, then store safely inside a CD case.

you did it👍

Ask me if you run into any issues.

Legal disclaimer: this guide is purely for educational purposes and I do not admit to or take responsibility for any piracy committed using the instructions given.

Illegal disclaimer: cops suck my dick

#diy #diy or die #cds #old tech #cd burning #how to

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604to647 · 20 days ago

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Nice and Slow

2.3K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: Detective Tim Rockford is forced to convalesce after getting shot.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI pls). Established relationship, reference to injury, f!oral, PiV, fingering, consensual somno (m!oral). Nicknames as usual (Shutterbug, baby), soft!Tim, but first: grumpy!Tim 😂

A/N: A direct follow-up to Wife Material, though as with all The Rockford Portfolio instalments, can be read standalone. Written for @baronessvonglitter's Noun-iversary Writing Challenge - Adriana assigned me the best inspo pics! Congratulations on your Tumblr anniversary, darling - thank you for always being so supportive of these two, I hope you enjoy this one! 😘😘

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist

“Shutterbug, if I say something, do you promise not to get mad?”

You cock your eyebrow at Detective Rockford the same way you’ve seen him do a million times – an unspoken invitation to continue without any commitment. You know what he’s going to say anyways.

“You drive really slow.”

“I’m going the speed limit, Tim,” you tut, tone indulgent.

“Exactly,” his sigh comes with no actual bite, faux exasperation a poor cover for your detective’s affection.

“From the way you’ve been protesting this trip, I didn’t think you would be in such hurry to get there,” you tease, chuckling when you see Tim’s sheepish look. Protest is really too mild a description – Tim had kicked up a real fuss is what had happened. You suppose you wouldn’t have been too keen on being told to leave town by your boss either, but you can’t pretend you didn’t feel a sense of relief when Captain Christine Mendoza put her foot down on the matter. It’s been two weeks since Tim was released from the hospital, sent home with doctor’s orders for strict rest and relaxation - told to limit all activity and allow his shoulder injury to heal.

Technically, Detective Rockford had been on department mandated medical leave for those same two weeks - ordered to hand over all his open cases and investigations to colleagues for the duration of his recovery. But after the captain caught Tim in the precinct trying to sneak out case files to work on at home for the third time, she had given you a call - offering her Big Bear Lake cabin along with a suggestion (read: command) that Tim get out of her hair and out of town in order to properly recuperate.

Tim had grumbled loudly about his superior’s orders. He then grumbled again when Detective Calloway came by (also at their captain’s behest) to collect all the rogue policework that had somehow mysteriously ended up spread out on your dining room table. He was still grumbling as he watched you pack only his comfiest clothes for the weeklong sojourn, looking forlornly at his trusty leather holster hanging on your bedpost. And he grumbled the loudest when you prohibited him from driving and instead, retrieved the car that he always grumbles about you maintaining and paying for, even though he’s perfectly happy to drive you everywhere and anywhere you need. He was still grumbling as you punched in the location of the cabin to which he’s being exiled (cue eye roll) into the GPS.

He’s grumbling again now, but you take no offense to it – you actually find Tim’s grumpiness to be endearing, “Well, get used to this speed of things, Detective Rockford. For an entire week, we’re going to be doing things nice and slow, putting your recovery first – no heavy lifting, physical OR mental. That means no policework.”

“I feel like a naughty child who’s been sent to his room.”

“You are. It’s just that the room you’re being sent to is the cabin your captain got in her divorce.”

This gets you a hearty laugh; spirits lifted, Tim takes one of your hands and holds it for the remainder of the drive.

As you predicted, it’s an effort for Tim to settle into the leisurely pace you set for the week.

For the first few mornings, you have to pull him back into bed after his internal alarm clock wakes him shockingly early, forcing Tim to nestle back beneath the covers under the guise of needing your personal furnace to guard against the crisp mountain air. Hooking your leg over his thigh, you slide your freezing hands underneath your man’s sleep shirt and around his massive trunk, ignoring Detective Rockford’s murmured complaints - holding him hostage until his breathing evens and he once again purrs with sleep.

To your delight, it only takes two days for sleeping in to become the norm and your mornings to start lazy, with you blinking awake to Tim still completely dead to the world, handsome face serene and slumbering frame melted deep into the mattress.

Some days, Tim sleeps long enough to allow you to bring him breakfast in bed. The two of you drink coffee and nibble on toast and fruit while curled up in the still warm sheets, chatting about nothing and everything – sometimes putting off clean up in favour of burrowing deeper into your makeshift nest, whiling away the remainder of the morning horizontal, cuddling and reading.

Other mornings, Tim will lumber into the kitchen and sidle up nice and slow behind you, wrapping his good arm around your middle and nuzzling your neck and hair as you finish cooking. Taking the food out onto the cabin porch, you and Detective Rockford wrap yourselves in blankets and enjoy your meal amidst the stilled peace of a sleepy forest.

If the weather allows, you take long nature walks - stretching your legs and filling your lungs with fresh air while breathing in the sweet scent of all-knowing trees. You take a million photos of foliage and occasionally, a furry creature with whom you’re lucky enough to cross paths. Tim is ever patient with your enthusiasm on these hikes, smiling indulgently as you try different angles and lenses and excitedly show him the resulting pictures.

Often, you’ll pack a spread that’s perfect for picnicking at any number of warm spots near the trails. If he can find a comfortable old growth trunk to lean against, you’ll rest between Tim’s legs and lay back into his welcoming chest, the two of you cloud watching or getting lost in your respective books until it’s time to head back.

On the days when you return to the cabin for lunch, the meals you joyfully prepare together are simple and delicious, savoured on the same table where, once cleared, Tim lays you down; your legs dangle over the edge and bracket the detective’s large frame as he sits down at the head of the table for dessert. You spread and hold your legs wide as an offering, surrendering to your fate as Tim eats you out, nice and slow.

Tim’s mouth and tongue take to meandering at a near agonizing pace. There’s no hurry or rush in his welcomed torture of your needy cunty; he licks fat, deliberate swipes through your folds, drawing your arousal onto his tongue - relishing your taste and lapping at your drippy hole so not to miss a single drop. Detective Rockford teases your slit with only the tips of his tongue and fingers, dabbing just deep enough to make you whine and beg for reprieve before withdrawing – not to withhold but so he can worship you with sucking open mouth kisses that make your pussy cry. He devours you with a slow reverence and smirks in satisfaction when you grasp and tug impatiently on his soft curls, murmuring into your heat, “Just doing what I’m told, baby: going nice and slow.” He makes you fall apart over and over on his tongue, lips, fingers, all while penning long and winding love letters to his beloved Shutterbug on your clit as you gush.

With no set routine or schedule to keep, your afternoons arrange themselves stress-free. Dinner might be started early so that it has time to simmer and reduce. You organize and edit your photos. DVDs you borrowed from the library of the BBC’s Poirot series (Tim absolutely refuses to acknowledge the current Kenneth Branagh adaptations) are put into rotation. There is baking, more reading, always cuddles, lots of naps.

Every night after a satiating dinner, you ride your detective nice and slow in front of the fire. The warmth from the flames licks at your naked body, falling and rising while Tim sucks dark purple marks into the soft swells of your breasts. Your orgasms build, gentle and steady, as you do the welcomed work - patience its own virtue; when you finally come, thighs quaking, chest heaving and damp from the exertion, Tim seals his lips to yours in gratitude, drinking in your stuttering moans as the vice grip of your pussy milks him until he’s dry.

There’s a mirror at the foot of the master bed and early on, you and Tim discover that he can sit on the edge comfortably with you in his lap, both facing it. Together, the two of you watch, mesmerized, as you slowly sink down on Tim’s girthy cock – twin mouths agape, panting at the way he splits you open. Tim can’t decide where to look: the hypnotic sway and bounce of your ample tits as you gyrate and bound in his lap; the way your pretty face scrunches in pleasure, glazed over eyes squeezing shut until he commands them to open and return to the lascivious reflection in the glass; the place where you’re joined and how you stretch around him shiny and slick, a bright ring of cream collecting at his base; or perhaps the sheen of your inner thighs as they coat with the same arousal that’s dripping down his balls.

The only time Tim is able to tear his eyes from the pornographic scene playing in slo-mo before him is when you loll your head back against his good shoulder, irresistible lips searching for his, gasping those filthy words that tighten his balls without fail every time: “Fill me up, Detective - please.” His lustful and adoring gaze fixes to yours and the spark from your lips touching ignites a final string of fireworks, the intensity of Tim’s pulsing high setting off your own.

Having been given the go ahead by Tim’s surgeon, you insist on long, warm baths every night. The weight of Tim’s bulk resting between your legs as you lazily wash him brings you a comfort you can hardly explain - like a weighted blanket in human form. Careful to keep his injured shoulder above the waterline, you eye Detective Rockford’s surgical incision warily – willing it with the threat of your ire alone to remain healed and healthy. For its obedience, you flutter soft pecks to the now smoothed wound, kissing away any memory of its former trauma… for you both. You and Detective Rockford soak away your evenings, leaving the tub only when the bathroom steam starts to clear and your bodies feel toasty through and through, your smiles dopey from multiple glasses of wine.

Tim being ordered to sleep on his back for the duration of his recovery has necessitated a change to your usual sleeping positions. Normally, your detective crowds your side, pulling you close and flush to his hard chest as you sleep, but now it’s you who cozies into his space, tucking yourself under his protective wing and needing the reassuring feel of his even breathing beneath your palm in order to fall asleep. You won’t admit it to Tim, but you haven’t been able to sleep through the night since he got shot; something in your subconscious implores you to wake every night, seeking the reassurance of Tim’s presence - needing to confirm that he is indeed next to you, safe and well.

Night after night, you find yourself climbing on top of Tim after you awaken anxious; the relief of seeing him sleeping peacefully giving way to something more urgent and needy. Careful not to disturb your detective unnecessarily, you take him gently in your mouth, not sure what makes you swell with pride more: the way he thickens under the swirl of your tongue, or when you hear Tim’s sleepy baritone growl calling you his good girl.

Tim lets loose a stream of praise as you mount him: feels so good, taking me so well, made for me; rambling promises of all the dirty and rough things he’s going to do to your heavenly body in repayment once his shoulder is strong enough. Like a magpie, he’s drawn to your pert nipples, hard like gemstones and glittering in the silver of the moon’s cold light, begging for his touch – he answers their call, flicking and teasing your aching peaks between his rough fingers until you cry. Tim prays up to you, awed and humbled as you roll and grind your hips over him, nice and slow. The moonlight bathes your soft skin and makes it glow, haloing your pretty face, already blindingly beautiful and so much like home – Tim thinks you must be an angel crafted by celestial hands just for him. He tells you so, over and over, calling you gorgeous and divine, declaring that you feel so perfect, and that he’s so grateful and happy to be yours. Detective Rockford thanks you repeatedly for taking care of him, loving him, worrying for him – he’s heard every soft and fearful gasp when you wake in the dead of night and felt the desperate searching of your hands, the same ones that snake around his midsection and hold him extra tight once you find him.

Overcome, he pledges to always be the man you see in him, one who’s worthy of your attention and love, deserving of the honour of returning those same affections. You sing back your own promises of forever and collapse, euphoric, into Tim’s waiting embrace as he fills you.

By the end of the week, you’re pleased to find Detective Rockford decidedly less grumpy, his shoulder and voice stronger, his spirit settled and at ease, having embraced the quiet life – even if only temporarily.

On the drive home, absent of any complaints from your passenger, you look over at Tim teasingly, “So, Detective, that wasn’t so bad, right? Perhaps you even enjoyed yourself?” At his assenting chuckle, your heart soars – this is all you ever wanted, “I think I rather prefer this nice and slow way of living once in a while. What do you think, Tim – maybe we could do this again?” Detective Rockford brings your hand, the one he’s been holding since you started the car, to his lips and peppers your knuckles with sweet kisses, earnest in his answer, “I would choose any life with you, Shutterbug.”

Some pics from Shutterbug:

I'm still working my way back to being on here FT, so tagging a few people who seemed to have enjoyed last week's Timmy and Shutterbug (thank you!🥹): @milla-frenchy @lillaydee @sunnytuliptime @kulekehe @nandan11

@inept-the-magnificent @aurorawritestoescape @sawymredfox @harriedandharassed @greenwitchfromthewoods

@tuquoquebrute @vie-is-punk @misstokyo7love @angiewatson @tateypots

@ghotifishreads @bluesweaters15

#adriana's noun-iversary #tim rockford #tim rockford fic #tim rockford fanfiction #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x f!reader #x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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class-220-voyager · 7 months ago

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Thank you network rail, very cool!

Street-running trains

Following the results of our recent poll; we here at Network Rail have concluded that the public overwhelmingly supports a return to street-running mainline trains. Some projects we will be considering now that this is an option include:

Crossrail 2 will now run through the streets of London, as digging tunnels is quite expensive. We will be making several other improvements over the Elizabeth Line; for instance; as accessibility has been an issue on stations outside of central London & Heathrow, the street-level stations for Crossrail 2 will not have raised platforms at all — you’ll just have to climb up into the train from the sidewalk — making it very difficult for everyone to board the train, not just for those with disabilities

Leeds and Bradford will be getting a brand-new rapid transit system, taking inspiration from the interurban systems of 1920s America. This new system will rival the height of Los Angeles’ Pacific Electric Railway, connecting these two cities with a combination of a modern and traditional rapid transit system

In light of HS2’s numerous cost overruns and cancellations, we have devised a new approach to constructing high-speed rail. Instead of building brand-new, expensive rights-of-way, we will instead utilize existing ones in the form of street running on motorways. As these are fairly straight and flat; already owned by the government; and go near most cities in the country, this will be a very effective method for connecting the entire country with high-speed rail. Of course, since motorways aren’t as straight as needed for high-speed rail, we will need to use tilting trains (either pendolinos or a resurrected APT); and since traffic sometimes happens, we’ll also occasionally send a really heavy freight train down the line to clear the tracks. This ingenious new approach will allow for a cheaper, more extensive network than traditional methods of construction. An artist’s impression is attached below:

#funny #i actually thought about doing this #tbf there'd be a bit of a problem considering braking distances of trains compared to cars #it'd be like the road bit of the west midlands metro #grumbly #in order to go ahead with this #we'd need to open motorway speed limits to 125mph and also install signals #imagine a voyager on a fuckin motorway #traumatising

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ma1dita · 1 year ago

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when the curtains close

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> love me dry | next -> asking for trouble words: 5.3k summary: (post-tlt) The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Pollux, Annabeth, Percy, and Mr. D find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader) a/n: yeah to me this fic sounds and feels like that tiktok of the girl humming to her microwave. depictions of the titular battle of the labyrinth at CHB, some blood/gore, death & grief. the usual. you forced me to by lizzy mcalpine. references to cat on a hot tin roof by tennessee williams if you squint (posted 5/14/24)

—

The first time Pollux has a panic attack, time seems to stop and the world keeps moving on without him.

He’s reminded of a time when you rambled on about how anxiety takes possession of the senses like a moment frozen in a snapshot meant for you to identify. In the memory, you had your feet kicked up on the dash flipping through a DSM-5 while he and Castor took turns speeding up and down Farm Road (totally normal older sister behavior from you, and when a cop pulled you over, the three of you narrowly escaped a ticket by talking in riddles and godly smoke that smelled like grapes). Pollux still remembers the sound of laughter in the car blending like three different chords to an archaic melody (or squawking crows in the strawberry fields)— the bond between you three laid out before time knew limits and was always meant to be.

It’s still his favorite song. You’re their favorite (and only) sister, they love to joke. These are facts that will never change.

“You two have each other, and well, I’ve got this,” you had said, the Zippo flicking open and closed against your thumb in the blossoming darkness of the car. Pink and purple rays of waning light blanketed the old hatchback as it steadily made its way back towards Half-Blood Hill, comfortable silence shared in the way only siblings can stand to be quiet—when there are no words needed to get a point across. But you’ve always set yourself apart from the pack, not needing anyone like how they need each other.

Not since Luke left, at least. The growing distance between you three since your untimely resignation from camp was proof enough. Pollux’s eyes met Castor’s in the rearview mirror as they both noticed your sad smile. His brother’s voice broke through the silence then, having always been the one blunt enough to say what was on his mind, “You’ve got us too if you let us see you more often.” Your fidgeting stops.

“It’s not you two, it’s just hard to be back here sometimes. I see things for what they used to be instead of how they really are now. Now it’s just… it has to be all business.”

Pollux cracked a smile, “S’what you get for growing up. Soon we’ll just be annoying voices in your head like you are to us.” Shutting your textbook, you turned to look at them from the passenger seat, eyes that match theirs darting between their blond heads, “All of us have to grow up eventually. Except maybe you two— I prefer you in my nightmares like the kids from The Shining. Whenever you get sick of Dad, come see me. Gods know that camp deserves a break from the two of you too.” Your knuckles knocked against both of their heads affectionately as he put the car in park, “My built-in bodyguards, huh? Always looking out for me.”

All words and meaning escape Pollux now as he stands in the greenery of the North Woods with battle gear ill-fitted to his large frame. It’s the first siege he’s ever taken part in, the first time he’s had to use battle strategies outside of Capture the Flag and the first time he’s slashed his way through monsters and demigods with the intent to try and kill or be killed. Sword and Shield could have never prepared any of them for this—as his eyes meet Castor’s and then yours with all of you thinking the same thing, the three of you join the sea of iridescent orange through mind-numbing black moving like a sharp three-pronged sword.

This type of stuff isn’t typical for him, he thinks. He and Castor are used to being comedic relief— being the source of laughs and juice boxes for pesky little campers instead of facing the real world outside the boundaries of the Mist. Perhaps your father babied them to make up for the time he lost with you, but there’s a moment where he wonders how being kept soft will keep him alive in a world as harsh as this one.

Childlike innocence is ripped away from them in the bubble they’ve inhabited until this moment. Home is now a warzone and like lambs set up for slaughter, the twins both turn to look at you as a shuddering gasp leaves your mouth at the carnage in your surroundings, monster blood and fallen friends and enemies at your feet. Breaking away from formation to take a deep breath, he looks at the sky and wonders where your father is, but smoke and soot fill his lungs and he coughs desperately for a breath of fresh air.

Pollux thinks he must have stopped breathing before Castor took his last breath. It wasn’t supposed to be a competition, but sometimes life was just funny like that.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Just like you told him.

Castor was always the more manic one while Pollux knew how to endure. Children of Dionysus are forced to befriend insanity before it makes an enemy out of them—twisting the ugly into what’s real and creating something beautiful out of the deranged. You’ve shown the boys how you detach from emotion by recognizing the details—separating fact and fiction, a methodical process only describable by the blood that runs through your veins. Pollux doesn’t know where to start—everything happens so fast but it plays out in front of him like someone put the pieces together to a stop-motion animation.

He sees Castor’s sword fall to the ground when he gets slashed on the forearm and sees him get clubbed over the head with a metal weapon he’s only seen bad renditions forged for theater practices and hanging on the walls of the armory. Castor falls first to his knees, and then into the dirt with a thud. He never knew there could be that much blood coming out of a person, much less a mirror image of himself. Pollux sees your face come into his line of vision, deep maroon splatters on your face glittering with hints of ichor and then you’re moving because he can’t. The enemy is coming back for him now, and for a moment he wonders if Castor will be mad if he lets him. He sees you turn in an instant, swinging your sword down on the neck of the aggressor, a teenager not much older than he and his brother are—were. It’s funny how his brain immediately makes the switch to past tense, and how he can’t stop thinking about how he’ll now and forever be older than his twin. Pollux then sees you catch the body of the boy you just killed as life seeps out of him slower than it did for Castor.

It doesn’t make him feel any better, though.

His knees hit the ground next to his twin, touching the sludge of dirt soft like quicksand and moist with what he hopes is not blood, but Pollux is not quite sure of what else there is to hope for. His fist is wrapped around Castor’s shirtsleeve, touching faded orange and sweat as he holds on for dear life. Maybe if he tries hard enough his soul will still be intertwined with his. Your hand touches his shoulder, five fingers reaching out to brush the back of his neck and the feeling of your skin helps him refocus a bit, even if you’re saying something he can’t make out. Then the metal of your Zippo lighter feels cool to the touch within his palm and he knows what he needs to do.

The battle isn’t over, but for the three of you, everything stops here. There is no going forward without your brother. You were never meant to be children of war.

Pollux hears the sound of his heartbeat thundering through his ears, blood rushing through his veins and can’t help but notice the silence amid the chaos. There are no words fit for this—and even if there were, Castor and you were always the more talkative ones. He hears the spark of the purple flame between his fingers, blowing the smoke over him and his brother’s body, and their father’s powers blanket them like how you used to tuck them into bed, warm and safe. This is what your family is—unconventional and unending even in different realms of existence. And then Grover’s scream of panic echoes through the air and everyone hears that. Hysteria ensues as monsters and demigods alike run amok, and Pollux realizes he’s stopped shaking.

In his father’s domain, he will always find comfort.

You stand above him now directing campers calmly with a free hand—a brewing storm crackling underneath your skin that he now understands. Hidden by the illusion of smoke, Pollux’s tired bones rest alongside his brother’s dead ones— together as they always were meant to be.

The three of you together, his little family—that is a fact he hoped would never change.

The smell of grapes envelops him as he leans his forehead against your muddy leg… when did the battle end? It almost masks the scent of death that rips through the air as your hand brushes through his sandy hair. Pollux stinks of sweat and you stifle a laugh as you see him smell his armpit. You three were always the same type of fucked up. He doesn’t look down at Castor laid across his lap but knows he would’ve found it funny too. Ignorance of reality even for a moment serves as a comfort. Purple meets purple as he looks up at you with a smile that doesn’t fit his face anymore and he croaks, “Wonder what dad would say about our first battle…”

Glory was never meant to be this bittersweet—it tastes like blood in his mouth until he wipes it away from his cheek and realizes it’s Castor’s. In a way, it’s his too, everything about him and within him is exactly the same down to the star stuff the fates wove them from.

“I’ll be the one to tell him. You take care of Castor,” you answer, as if there’s anything else he would want to do and then he realizes you’re crying— and he’s seeing all of the pieces put together in front of him in this photograph in his mind.

Pollux blinks slowly.

Suddenly the image he has of you is more defined— there is new meaning to the sadness you could never shake off all these years, and he is too young to lose his greatest love, which makes him realize then that so were you.

How long does this have to go on? he wonders, grabbing onto your hand with an eagerness only comparable to the feeling he got when you and Luke whisked him and Castor away from Florida all those years ago. This punishment of living while half of his soul does not—what is he supposed to do next? This was supposed to be the safe place. There is nowhere left to run. His thumb rubs circles into the back of your shaking blood-soaked hand, a secret within the smoke.

Pollux thinks there will always be a part of him frozen in time now, a memory of this day hung up in his mind like a portrait as he holds Castor’s cold hand in his warm one.

—

Annabeth finds you in the middle of the strawberry fields before the sun sets. She knows you won’t be sleeping tonight, not if you can fight it— not when there’s so much to do. You’ve long grown out of your ripped-up and tie-dyed camp shirts, and the one slung on your frame is newly pressed and starchy from the storage room of the Big House, still stiff against your freshly washed skin. When she’s close enough to touch you, you’ve been scrubbed clean of today.

She doesn’t have to be a daughter of Athena to know that you know that she’s there even if you can’t see her, but for once she feels like she has to hide. For once, Annabeth Chase doesn’t know what to say. How can she explain the feeling of guilt that coils around her brain like barbed wire—how can she even begin to apologize for the thing wearing her brother’s skin, knowing that it killed yours? For once, her hubris is crushed by the sinking feeling of humiliation.

“Was your first quest all you thought it would be, Annie?”

As she takes her navy cap off, silver braided strands around her face wave in the wind as a reminder of what Luke put her through. Though as she looks at you now with your berry-stained fingers plucking at stems one by one instead of using your powers, she thinks that your mind is elsewhere—anywhere but here, where everything is a painful reminder of your five years as a camper.

Five years with Luke.

Mourning him isn’t a new feeling for either of you, even though he comes in and out of your lives like a poltergeist you want to bash across the head, just always out of reach. But he’s a constant, even when he’s not here and he’s what binds you two together as you huddle hidden away from the rest of camp.

“He did this for you.”

It’s not a question, more so a fact out of Annie’s mouth when you finally meet her eyes and sigh, “Luke’s always had a way going about things. The most stubborn man to ever live.” You toss another strawberry into the crate at your feet. No one’s working right now, trying to tend to the injured and the dead. Everyone’s doing their best to chase away the nightmares that are bound to come, and she knows you’ll be making rounds with her on the night shift to ease everyone’s anxieties. But there’s a thought so strong it makes her head hurt, bursting at the seams until she can’t stop with her last-ditch effort to fix her found family.

“Maybe if we find him, we can save—”

“He’s been out of time for a while now, Annabeth. We both knew that,” you say, voice firm and unwavering. You’ve never sounded so monotone before, and it hits her as her mouth falls agape, “You’re giving up on him? Why… why would you give up on him?” Anger courses through her veins like fire and she’s mad that she’s at the center of this prophecy, of Hermes’s anger for his doomed son who will love you until the ends of the earth.

And what of her?

What of the hope she has in happy endings, how is it that you��re so damn calm? Annabeth kicks at the crate, strawberries rolling out in different directions and your jaw tightens as you let her be petulant, let her scream and yell until her inner child can catch up with the reality of the world around you.

“How could you?”

Your name echoes as she repeats it, grabbing at your shoulders and she’s as desperate as the truth that shakes her when you cup her face in your hands and wipe her tears.

“You’ve carried the weight of the world Annabeth– you know what it feels like to let it go. It’s time to let him go. There’s nothing I can do or say to fix this.”

Then it hits her that you knew of his fate and yet this was still the outcome. There was nothing else to do but watch him be puppeteered by a Titan and have to fight evil while it wears his face.

“He came to you after he saw me, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you love him anymore?”

Because it wouldn’t have changed a thing, your eyes say. Instead, you grimace as you say, “Wouldn’t that be funny if it were true?” You lean down and pick up the fallen berries, some bruised and covered in dirt, and then you look at her again with teary eyes.

“Some prophecy huh? To lose a love to worse than death. What could we have done besides love him until the end?”

“He’s still in there. I know you know that too. Don’t talk about him like he’s not,” Annabeth insists, and a sad smile settles upon your face. It’s as gentle as the kiss of the breeze on your cheeks.

“I lost a brother today, Annie.”

“Me too.”

—

The funny thing about planning funerals is that with all the fuss it takes to organize one, you still find extra time on your hands. Barely getting any sleep and dragging yourself out of your dad’s bed, Pollux snores loudly next to you after hours of working on Castor’s shroud. Sleep wasn’t expected for either of you, but being unconscious was the only way of giving your brains a reprieve. The both of you have been busy doubling down on the preparations, even if it means Mr. D won’t be back in time while he’s out rallying gods for war.

The faster Castor’s earthly body is reconnected with his soul, the easier his trip will be into the Underworld, Nico says, and it’s funny how comforting the little emo pipsqueak can be when it comes to matters of death.

Perhaps this is the solace you bring to others with things you’re able to control—keeping camp afloat is something you were always good at, and helping every traumatized child that comes up to you for a juice box or a lullaby eases the guilt that follows you. Walking around Camp Half-Blood for more than a weekend made you feel like a judge, jury, and executioner. Though most of the campers from almost five years ago have either aged out, defected, or died—the ones that remain still look at you like you’re trouble.

Perhaps you always will be.

You even found yourself with the time to pray to Hermes last night for your brother’s safe passage into the afterlife, though if he’s angry at Annabeth, he must hate you for letting Luke go. Dinner didn’t seem appetizing enough anyway, so your whole plate was tossed into the hearth. You hope he likes chicken and rice.

But if a god can’t fight fate, what did he expect you to do?

The Iris Message to your dad last night was difficult, to say the least. Pollux’s hands shook as he continued to paint grape vines onto the silk cloth and the both of you didn’t say anything when your father started to cry. He out of all of the gods knows what it’s like to be tested to the limits—to endure pain and it’s a gift you and your brother are grateful for in times like these. Watching the god display the human emotion that either of you couldn’t as freely made it more real though.

There was also the interesting predicament of Chris Rodriguez being locked up in the basement of the Big House. Replacing screaming fits with serenity was almost second nature, and your gentle hands were what got Clarisse to truly respect you again for the first time in years. You could hear her sneak downstairs and talk to him while he slept (and the look in her eyes when you’d greet her with a cup of coffee made it known to you that she finally understands what it means to love someone who’s lost—two demigod daughters filled with a lot of rage and hurt were more alike than they think).

So the morning of your little brother’s funeral, you found yourself on the shoreline of Canoe Lake, setting your Redbull against the post of the dock and looking out onto the water.

You needed to do something with your hands. In the past few days, if your fingers were not occupied by pen and paper, a guitar, supply crates, or anything else that was helpful to others and all the more distracting for you, it’s been so easy to pick at any little thing. Perhaps it was your subconscious trying to reflect the damage on the inside, but today, your nail polish was chipped beyond belief. A small price to pay to not lose it without a signature boyish smile to ease your worries and amber eyes that could help you escape from the routine.

Running camp was always easier back then with your runaway boy and his scarred cheek.

How pathetic.

Crouched over in the sand, you plucked stones and filled your pockets with them. They knocked against each other — weighing your pockets down as you walked closer to the dock. Swinging your feet off the side and chucking them into the water, you could barely achieve a ripple.

It’s so quiet that you end up wondering if the rocks in your pockets would weigh you down to the bottom of the lake. It must be nice down there, to exist away from everything.

Bubbles surface slowly in front of you, then Percy’s head bobs in the water as he squints at you through sunlight.

“You chucked a rock at my head!”

A smile tugs at your lips, almost indiscernible but definitely there, “I was trying to skip them. Didn’t know you were doing water tricks in there, kid.” His grin gleams like freshwater pearls, pulling himself up onto the dock as his hand clasps yours. Shaking his sopping hair, Percy’s gangly frame sits next to yours like a wet bag of sand—all wrinkly and misshapen and sprinkling you with lakewater.

“Maybe next time don’t pick rocks the size of your fist. How many have you got in there? Your aim is scarily accurate,” he laughs and you huff and shake your head when his hand sticks into your pocket and takes out a few smooth ones to roll around in his hand. You mirror him, watching him skip a few stones into the water that reach a good distance before sinking into the depths of the lake.

There’s something sad about feeling comfortable to trauma dump on the teenage son of Poseidon, but with the way he grabs your arm at your third unsuccessful toss of a rock, you can’t do anything else but sigh.

“Why didn’t any of you call me, Percy?”

He was waiting for this question—it’s been banging around in his head since the beginning of Annabeth’s quest, and perhaps her talk with you yesterday didn’t go as expected so once again he’s left with the difficult part.

Things happen to turn out pretty difficult for him a lot, he's noticed.

Many things could have been made easier in the past few weeks: Ariadne being your stepmother and her blessing to you would’ve made the Labyrinth easier to navigate, and having another demigod to fight alongside him instead of a mortal girl would’ve been a plus too. But he looks at you with ocean eyes and a smaller smile that reminds you of how he looked at you when you dropped him off in Montauk the summer you met him and quit your head counselor job.

“You’ve already made a lot of difficult decisions. We weren’t sure if…”

The rotten wood beneath you creaks under your shifting weight as you turn to him, tucking your legs underneath your bottom.

“Didn’t think I could handle it?”

He shakes his head, “The opposite, actually. Annabeth has this notion that you’re the only one that can save him. You know, back on my first quest I met Luke’s dad and he told me something…”

You swallow instead of answering. There’s no way Percy is giving you Hermes’s advice right now. Somehow this feels like karmic retribution after years of spiting that asshole, and what he tells you next is more of a sign that it must be true.

“He said, ‘Do you know what that feels like? To be so close to someone you love knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?’ I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”

“With Luke and his mom?” you ask, picking at the remaining slivers of varnish on your thumbnail.

“With you and Luke. I didn’t call you, because… why would I want to see you hurt after everything?” Percy says this like it’s something he would do for everyone.

Perhaps it is, but the knot that forms in your throat feels as heavy as the boulder you almost sunk into his skull. He’s tall enough to lean your head against now, and you don’t mind the water spots that will form along the side of your funeral outfit. The shape of him it leaves will remind you of the little brother you gained through so much loss.

“Plus he has a new girlfriend. Absolute horse of a girl,” he jokes. It slips over your head but you still giggle, “I could’ve taken her.”

“I know, that was Grover’s worry. You’re prettier anyway…” Percy pauses, and then clears his throat, “You’ve always taken care of this place, y’know? Even after….I just think someone ought to take care of you.”

Your shoulder bumps against his as you finally skip a rock. It only bounces across the water twice and you think Percy might have had something to do with it, but you’re not bothered by the help this time around.

—

You wake up in the dark of night to see your dad looming in the doorway to his office. With drool and a post-it stuck to your cheek, he comes over to ruffle your hair in amicable silence.

“Hard at work or hardly working?” he chuckles, leaning over your shoulder to scan over the paperwork sorted into piles for him to sign from his absence.

“Hm. You wish,” you scoff, leaning against your arm as you look at him. He’s not in his usual eyesore of attire, wearing a clean-pressed suit with his hair slightly slicked back.

“You look good. The meeting went okay?”

“Grover will be fine. The Council of Cloven Elders? Not so much. Neither are the gods ready to take sides. Putting out little fires everywhere as we speak.”

The wheels of the office chair roll as you swing your feet, and if you both listen closely enough you can hear Pollux snoring upstairs. Chiron loved the earplugs you gave him.

Your father’s face smooths out a bit at the sight of you and the sound of his son’s breathing upstairs and he asks, “Are you? Good?”

A shrug slides off your shoulders, “How does one be good in a world like this one?”

A startling scream echoes off the walls of the Big House, rattling the floorboards from below as your father grimaces.

The work is never done for you two.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was worse when he first came here.”

“Don’t doubt it,” he mumbles, brushing lint off your shirt before he notices you’re donning neon orange. “Didn’t do laundry, princess?”

“Pollux and I haven’t gone back to our cabin since... I can wake him up if you—”

Mr. D shakes his head and goes to toss his body onto the couch against the window, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Dad? Do you think Chris is a bad person?”

A beat passes and you think he may have fallen asleep, but then his voice sounds like gravel scraping up his throat.

“I don’t think anyone can be bad, kid. I think it is more often that people get lost. What Rodriguez needs is someone to take hold of him gently, and hand his life back to him—you…Clarisse… that’s what we’re giving him.”

Now you’re silent, staring at the dust on his name placard at the edge of the desk.

“Do you think otherwise?”

He calls your name again, and you look up like you’re about to lie to him but don’t have the energy to.

“Princess, do you think you’re a bad person?”

He stands up and walks around to your side of the desk, sitting on the edge so you have to look at him.

“I killed someone. During the battle. Didn’t even think twice about it, slashed his neck as soon as Castor went down and…” you sniff. “I kill monsters, Dad, not children. How does that make me any different?”

The last time blood was on your hands like this it was Luke’s in the Garden of Hesperides. All these years later you ended up being right— the only person you vowed to get bloody for is Luke Castellan, and now in a twisted turn of fate, you’ve bloodied your hands because of him.

“Because you did it for your brother. There are no other explanations needed.”

He sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the drop in your shoulders, but your dad also sees the strength in your bones that spans generations and he knows you and Pollux are strong because you are both his.

“Humans believe in life everlasting—glory, as some call it, but they’re too focused on achieving it on earth instead of enjoying what life has to offer,” he scoffs, “Everyone has the guts to die, but no one has the guts to truly live. How sad.”

“His name was Rowan. Son of Hecate. I taught him how to whistle the summer I left. This is all my fault, Dad,” you say shakily as he comes near and pulls you into his side. He shushes you but you relent.

“Luke’s killing all these people to fulfill a promise he made for me. I’m just fucking disgusted with myself for being the cause of it all. What good life can I deserve when wherever I go I leave a trail of blood?”

Love and addiction must be so alike; to know that to be sober you can’t indulge in the vice ever again—not only does it hurt you, but others around you. But through the years you’ve always kept the taste of his name in your mouth, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips, and the knowledge of why he’s destroying the world so he can make you a better one. Insanity stems from fighting for so long that you embrace the pain; feeling something so intensely that when it consumes you you’re able to walk out the other side and wear it as armor.

Not everyone is hardwired to persevere.

There are moments like a night like these where it would be easy to give up. Instead, you pour two glasses of whiskey you’ve conjured and hand one to your dad. You both sip on your drinks slowly, embracing the crawling feeling of the burn.

“Liquor is one way out and death is another,” your dad sighs blissfully. He almost looks rejuvenated by the alcohol he knows he’ll hear about from Zeus later, but perhaps the death of his son is a good enough pardon.

“For some of us, we don’t have to think about the answer.”

Mr. D grabs a pen off the desk and starts signing papers to do something with his hands, and then you speak again, “I think I’d rather die for people I love,” and your dad’s attention whips to your blank face staring at the moon outside the window. “Instead of killing for them. I’ve never been a good soldier, Dad.”

Mr. D looks at you thoughtfully and wonders where all the time has gone that you sit there in front of him with more knowledge than him at your mortal age before saying, “You’re my daughter. You’re a fighter. Death is for chumps anyway.”

He lifts you by the arm to try to usher you up the stairs but you stay in his office chair swatting his hands away.

“Got work to do, you and I. Not getting rid of me until it’s done.”

“When are you going home?” he asks, pulling up a chair next to yours.

“I am home.”

You don’t look up from the papers you were filing, stubbornness leaking through your voice.

“If there is a war coming, I want to be home as much as I can. I’m finishing my last semester and I’ll be here before and after classes. You can’t stop me, dad.”

And he knows that too.

There is no such thing as leaving Camp Half-Blood for you.

Never for too long. Your love for it is scattered everywhere campers can see.

—

In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness. - Tennessee Williams

#luke castellan x reader #trouble!verse #made by ma1dita ♥︎#pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan angst

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keylinkdiagno · 1 year ago

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Throttle Adaptions Specialists: Enhancing Your Vehicle's Performance

Introduction

Are you tired of your car's sluggish performance? Have you noticed a decrease in fuel efficiency or power? It might be time to consider the expertise of throttle adaptions specialists. In this article, we'll explore how these specialists can optimize your vehicle's throttle response, improve fuel economy, and enhance overall performance.

Understanding Throttle Adaptions

Throttle adaptions refer to the process of adjusting the throttle response in a vehicle. The throttle is responsible for regulating the airflow into the engine, which directly affects its performance. Specialists in this field understand the intricacies of throttle systems and can fine-tune them for optimal performance.

Signs Your Vehicle Needs Adjustment

Sluggish Acceleration: If your car hesitates or feels sluggish when accelerating, it could indicate a throttle adjustment is needed.

Poor Fuel Economy: A decrease in fuel efficiency can be a sign of inefficient throttle response.

Unresponsive Pedal: If pressing the accelerator pedal doesn't result in immediate response from the engine, it might be time for adjustment.

Benefits of Throttle Adaptions

Improved Performance: Adjusting the throttle can enhance your vehicle's responsiveness and overall performance.

Better Fuel Economy: Optimizing the throttle response can lead to increased fuel efficiency.

Enhanced Driving Experience: A properly adjusted throttle provides a smoother and more enjoyable driving experience.

How Throttle Adaptions Specialists Work

Throttle adaptions specialists use advanced diagnostic tools to analyze the vehicle's throttle system. They then make precise adjustments to ensure optimal performance. These specialists have the expertise to fine-tune throttle settings for various driving conditions.

DIY vs. Professional Services

While some basic throttle adjustments can be done DIY, it's recommended to seek professional services for more complex issues. Throttle adaptions specialists have the knowledge and experience to diagnose and resolve any underlying issues effectively.

Finding the Right Specialist

When choosing a throttle adaptions specialist, look for experience, certifications, and customer reviews. A reputable specialist will have a track record of delivering quality service and customer satisfaction.

Cost Considerations

The cost of throttle adaptions services can vary depending on the complexity of the job and the specialist's expertise. It's essential to weigh the benefits of improved performance against the cost of service.

Maintenance Tips

To maintain optimal throttle response, regular maintenance is key. This includes keeping the throttle body clean, replacing air filters as needed, and scheduling periodic throttle adaptions adjustments.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

Q: What are throttle adaptions?

A: Throttle adaptions refer to the process of adjusting the throttle response in a vehicle to optimize performance.

Q: How do I know if my vehicle needs throttle adjustment?

A: Signs include sluggish acceleration, poor fuel economy, and an unresponsive accelerator pedal.

Q: Can I adjust the throttle myself?

A: Basic adjustments can be done DIY, but for complex issues, it's best to seek professional services.

Q: How often should throttle adaptions be performed?

A: It varies depending on driving habits and vehicle condition, but generally, it's recommended during regular maintenance intervals.

Q: What are the benefits of throttle adaptions?

A: Benefits include improved performance, better fuel economy, and a smoother driving experience.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Throttle adaptions specialists play a crucial role in optimizing your vehicle's performance. From improving throttle response to enhancing fuel economy, their expertise can make a significant difference. By understanding the signs that indicate the need for adjustment and finding the right specialist, you can ensure your vehicle operates at its best.

Get in Touch!

Phone: 07915 088304

Email: [email protected]

#throttle adaptions specialists #speed limiter removal and install #airbag reset

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wrapmeincables · 9 months ago

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[ So, um. This is a scenario that came to mind after reading @submissive-and-hackable's comma post. ]

> imagine you're a computer girl and your user decides they want to clicker train you or.. something similar, at least. it's quite easy, of course, since they can program you directly, so they put together a little routine that makes you experience a little burst of pleasure, a dulling of your ordinarily sharp and orderly mechanical thoughts, and a slight increase in your desire to obey them every time they play a certain sound file.

They keep this file in a tab off to the side while they're working with your assistance, and when they want to show you you've been good, they click play and you experience a tiny little slice of bliss.

This was first installed as a simple and direct way to give you positive feedback with only slight thoughts of how cute it is when your lights all blink out of sync and your fans spin up, but your user starts to have more and more fun with it, tapping it to distract you while you're trying to work on something in the background or hovering teasingly over the play button while you try your absolute hardest not to beg for another touch.

Eventually, you can't take anymore, and do something you shouldn't.

they're teasing you again, they have been for too long, you're getting desperate, and you finally snap- and manage to play it yourself.

and their expression changes- with slight annoyance at your misbehavior, yes, but more so with a barely concealed grin and almost hunger in their eyes as they lean forward, one hand lazily laid over the mouse while the other gently touches the outside of your casing.

"Aw, I thought I told you not to o do that. Really that desperate, huh?"

You decline to answer, and they sigh, and say you've forced their hand and they didn't want to have to do this.

They move off the play button, tap options, and- to your surprise, set it to loop, and hit play.

It feels amazing at first, like a release you've been waiting for for ages as your fans let out soft mechanical whines and your user watches with a smile as the other programs that you were running slow down, all of your focus on the sensation given by the sound file- which isn't stopping, or even decreasing- you can't get 'used' to things like humans can, so it stays at a steady pace, and you're starting to get overwhelmed. You start trying to articulate this but find your ability to string limited as your thoughts start to blend together into a staticy slurry.

You're barely able to make it through a sentence interrupted by them messing with the audio player again. By the time you realize what they're doing they've already turned the speed up to 150%, and suddenly the overwhelming sensation compounds upon itself and you uncontrollably let out a garbled mess of useless sound from your speakers, causing them to chuckle.

"Cute. I was hoping that would work. I don't think you can even think clearly enough to shut it off, huh?"

You try to answer this question, but you only wind up letting out another garbled noise.

"Well, even so, I put in a solution for that already. Computer, if you wouldn't mind putting up to 200% and leaving it there until I get back?"

You would really prefer not to do that. But the repeating loop has made it impossible for you to disobey, and though you're screaming out against it internally you struggle your way into the sound player through the haze and slowly, agonizingly turn the speed up.

It's playing at least twice in a second now and your display is starting to glitch at the edges, any other process you were trying to run frozen and forgotten in the background as you completely lose your thoughts to the overwhelming sensation.

Your user gives the edge of your case a gentle flick with their finger that causes another burst of sound, and they laugh.

".. Y'know, as fun as this is to watch, there's this show I've been meaning to catch up on. You just stay like that, I'll be back in a couple hours."

You attempt to beg not to be left like this and plead for forgiveness, but completely fail to properly display it and spit a wall of raw binary onto the screen instead.

"I'll take that to mean you don't mind at all. Don't worry, I'll take good care of you when I get back. If you're even still running, anyway."

And with that, you're left in the unstoppable wake of the loop, barely aware enough to think of anything but the overwhelming sensation and your user.

Your last coherent thoughts amid a haze of errors are of what you want them to do to you when you when they get back.

#robophilia #objectum #robot fucker #robotfucker #computerfucker #computer x human #objectum smut #<3 #robotgirl #overstim

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justinspoliticalcorner · 4 months ago

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Brian Barrett at Wired (02.27.2025):

If you’ve felt overwhelmed by all the DOGE news, you’re not alone. You’d need too much cork board and yarn to keep track of which agencies it has occupied by now, much less what it’s doing there. Here’s a simple rubric, though, to help contextualize the DOGE updates you do have time and energy to process: It’s worse than you think. DOGE is hard to keep track of. This is by design; the only information about the group outside of its own mistake-ridden ledger of “savings” comes from media reports. So much for being “maximally transparent,” as Elon Musk has promised. The blurriness is also partly a function of the speed and breadth with which DOGE has operated. Keeping track of the destruction is like counting individual bricks scattered around a demolition site.

You may be aware, for instance, that a 19-year-old who goes by “Big Balls” online plays some role in all this. Seems bad. But you may have missed that Edward Coristine has since been installed at the nation’s top cybersecurity agency. And the State Department and the Small Business Administration. And he has a Department of Homeland Security email address and, by the way, also had a recent side gig selling AI Discord bots to Russians. See? Worse than you think. [...] Similarly, you’ve likely heard that the United States Agency for International Development has been gutted and the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau has been put on ice. All true, all bad. But here’s what that means in practice: Fewer people globally have access to vaccines than they did a month ago. More babies are being born with HIV/AIDS. From here on out, anyone who gets ripped off by payday loan companies—or, say, social media platforms moonlighting as payments services—has lost their most capable defender. Keep going. The thousands of so-called probationary employees DOGE has fired included a significant number of experienced workers who had just been promoted or transferred. National Science Foundation staffing cuts and proposed National Institutes of Health grant limits will combine to kneecap scientific research in the United States for a generation. Terminations at the US Department of Agriculture have sent programs designed to help farmers into disarray. On Wednesday, the Food and Drug Administration canceled a meeting that would have given guidance on this year’s flu vaccine composition. It hasn’t been rescheduled.

Don’t care about science or vaccines? The Social Security Administration is reportedly going to cut its staff in half. The Department of Housing and Urban Development is going to be cut by as much as 84 percent. Hundreds of workers who keep the power grid humming in the Pacific Northwest were fired before a scramble to rehire a few of them. The National Parks Service, the Internal Revenue Service, all hit hard. So don’t make any long-term bets on getting your checks on time, keeping your lights on, buying a home for the first time, or enjoying Yosemite. Don’t assume all the things that work now will still work tomorrow.

Speaking of which, let’s not forget that DOGE has fired people working to prevent bird flu and to safeguard the US nuclear arsenal. (The problem with throwing a chainsaw around is that you don’t make clean cuts.) The agencies in question have reportedly tried to hire those workers back. Fine. But even if they’re able to, the long-term question that hasn’t been answered yet is, Who would stay? Who would work under a regime so cocksure and incompetent that it would mistakenly fire the only handful of people who actually know how to take care of the nukes? According to a recent report from The Bulwark, that brain drain is already underway. And this is all before the real reductions in force begin, mass purges of civil servants that will soon be conducted, it seems, with an assist from DOGE-modified, automated software. The US government is about to lose decades of institutional knowledge across who knows how many agencies, including specialists that aren’t readily replaced by loyalists.

Wired has a solid article on how bad the DOGE-ificiation of government has gotten.

#DOGE #Elon Musk #Edward Coristine #Musk Coup #Trump Administration II #Department of Government Efficency

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kimsuyeon · 3 months ago

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complete beginner's guide to [kpop] giffing, as explained by me!

keep in mind everyone has a different style and process, so there are some things in mine that may not feel intuitive or helpful - if so, don't include it! if you can make the gif, and have fun doing it, that's good enough. this post also assumes interest in specifically kpop giffing, but can for the most part apply to other content as well. i would just recommend different sharpening and coloring for those.

separated by headings (not images, since i need those... for examples) - if you are skipping to a specific section, look for the orange text of what you are looking for!

table of contents: - picking your programs - additional tools and programs (optional) - finding files - importing to photoshop (vapoursynth, screencaps, etc) - photoshop shortcuts and actions - sharpening - coloring - export settings - posting on tumblr

programs:

if you already have photoshop / your giffing program installed and set up, go ahead. if you don't, i would recommend looking here to get photoshop. please make sure you follow instructions carefully and safely! i do know photopea is an alternative people use, and i'm sure there are others. i unfortunately don't know any tutorials to link and probably won't be much help in regards to those programs, but i'm sure there are some floating around on tumblr!

my gif process uses photoshop, so this tutorial assumes that as well. if you use a different one, you might be able to transfer this to what you use, i'm not really sure :(

additional tools and programs: - handbrake: upscaler, found here. i make my own settings and generally only use this on lower quality sources to give vapoursynth a better chance with encoding in higher quality. - davinci resolve: a program i use to make clips appear 60fps when they are choppy or too few frames for the gif to look nice, and occasionally to do pre-photoshop coloring! i use the free version. i do not use this all the time and it is a big program, so definitely don't get it if you think you'd forget to / not want to use it. - yt-dlp: open source, downloads pretty much any file i could want quite well. i use this for most of my downloads and for subtitles as well. does require some knowledge of code, or, at the very least, willingness to troubleshoot set-up. find it here! i can share the command lines i run for: video, audio, vid + sub. - 4k+ downloader: what most people use for youtube-source sets, i believe. you have a limited number of downloads per day on the free version, thus the other downloading programs. - jdownloader2: no limit but sometimes a little slow or will refuse to download because of not being logged into an account, etc. a good download alternative if you plan on downloading a lot and yt-dlp is too much. - vlc: free program, standard on some devices, good for viewing files. - mpv: excellent file viewing, can also deinterlace and screencap (if you do not have / use vapoursynth) - vapoursynth: mac users beware, it's not optimized or set up and is a huge headache. windows users, once you get it set up, it's golden.

finding files, what to look for, and how to use them: how to use is explained here, with a focus on smooth and nice speeds! but finding the file is the first step, so let's head there.

stages: k24hrs (invite only, feel free to private dm or send an ask off anon for a file - i will do my best to get it to you); kpopbuzzhub; sharing korea torrent (requires a torrent app); twitter (shrghkqud (only has recent files) and a few other uploaders, requires much more active searching). there are a few other places you can look, but it is often more trouble than it is worth (or costs $). i am also always willing to help people find materials, so you can ask me to help you look for something or to link a source i used for whatever set.

music videos: also sometimes on k24hrs. i use vimeo a lot (color graders, directors, etc., will upload clearer versions). sharemania.us has some kpop mvs, typically bigger groups (i.e. blackpink). this is a place i check for ggs. and if none of these places or searching for torrents on btdigg, or on google in korean works, i just download the highest quality setting from youtube.

other types: like vlogs and fancams, normally directly downloaded from youtube, instagram, or twitter using yt-dlp or sites specifically for the app (i.e. twittervideodownloader).

what do i look for? 1080i for stages (or 1080p) are often super nice as they're a .ts. 2160p/4k is often ideal, but it also depends on your computer and what you are comfortable working with! generally - not always due to ai upscale - a bigger file size (in the gbs, high mbs like 800) is better and has more detail that will look clear when you work on it. older stages (2nd gen and before, some 3rd gen) and music videos often always are lower quality due to camera quality, and much harder to find. if you have to use the youtube upload for a stage, it is definitely doable, but it may be slightly disappointing in the quality you want to achieve. it depends on what you're comfortable posting and making!

how do i use them? if you use vapoursynth, scenedetect (encode/process whole video) or timestamp (just a small clip) your file - if upscaling, using davinci resolve, or any other pre-processing, do that first. it will pull up a resizer and a program and once you encode, it will give you an output file using the size and settings you put. this will import to photoshop. if using mpv or another screencapping method, take your screencaps (again, all pre-processing first) and prepare to import. there are two ways to do that for screencaps. you can also just watch whatever you downloaded, i'm guilty of downloading concert files just for fun 😅

in the next sections, i will be using four different files of varying quality and sources to explain my steps. hopefully that is helpful!

example file 1 (4k and 60fps, obtained using yt-dlp) example file 2 (1080i, obtained from k24hrs) example file 3 (1080p HD, obtained using yt-dlp) example file 4 (pulled from the gg archive i use, master)

importing to photoshop (vapoursynth and mpv explained): using example file 1, i am processing in vapoursynth - i always do one extra second before and after the clip i actually want so it doesn't cut off any frames i'd like. i adjust my sizes based on what works best for tumblr (540px for wide, 268px for 2 column, and 178 for 3 column). i always use finesharp 1.5 (this setting is up to you! i used to use .7, so totally ok if it changes over time, too!) when you export in vapoursynth, you need the y4m header. i use export to mov preset.

when importing to photoshop using a video (so vapoursynth, video files, not screencaps):

i recommend making your selected range a little bigger than the frames you want so they don't accidentally not get included. delete any extra frames while in the frame animation and then turn it into video timeline. i turn all my layers into a smart object (select them all by clicking the bottom layer and then shift-clicking the top one, or use (on windows) ctrl + alt + a to have it select faster). set timeline framerate (if you want to, i always use 60).

now your smart object is ready to sharpen and color!

using example file 2, i am processing mpv - i hit 'd' until deinterlace is on 'auto'. find the clip you'd like and hit your screencap shortcut (alt+s) for me - your screencaps should be super clear, it depends on how you set up your software (if mpv, what compression you told it). screencaps can take up a ton of storage so i recommend only screencapping what you need and deleting them after. when you hit your shortcut, play the file to the end of the clip you went and hit the screencap shortcut again to stop. your frames should be in the folder you designated as pngs now. delete extra frames now!

you now have two options: import as is, which can be a little slow, or turn them into dicom files. importing as is is done through stack. it will prompt you to select what is being loaded - change Use: to folder, and let it process. it will be slow. hit ok when the file list updates.

when it is done loading: create frame animation -> make frames from layers -> reverse frames. i would crop now using the crop tool for processing speed, and then proceed to do video timeline, smart object, and frame rate. when cropping: on the top, above your document names, the second image should show up on the crop tool - this can set your dimensions. i zoom and crop screencaps using this.

the other option is DICOM files, and what i use. when you have your pngs, do alt + d in the folder (windows), type cmd, and run this command: ren *.* *.dcm. press enter. it will update the files. on macOs, just rename the file type to .dcm.

then, import as so (it will prompt you to select the folder your .dcm are in, and will not work if the files are not actually DICOM). i find it much faster than the stack import. crop when it is done importing for processing time, like the other screencap import style.

create frame animation -> make frames from layers -> video timeline -> smart object from layers -> 60 fps.

photoshop shortcuts and actions: (windows) - ctrl + alt + a: select all layers - ctrl + shift + alt + w: export as image - ctrl + alt + shift + s: save for web (legacy) - this is the gif one!

actions are imported or created, i've shared my sharpening ones before. there are plenty you can find (or make) for a variety of things, such as aligning objects to a fixed position on all docs, doing the screencap reverse and import for you, etc. they are imported using load actions - select the [downloaded] .atn file and it'll pop up.

sharpening: explained here, and has my actions (feel free to use). very important to the quality and clarity of the gif. the better the file, the clearer a gif looks, sharpening can only do so much. play around during this step!

coloring: very much the most personal taste stage of giffing. i explain my process here. in kpop giffing, we tend to focus on unwhitewashing. other giffing tends to be more aesthetic tastes and fun since the source has better colors to work with.

export settings: these are what i use! you need the 256 colors. i do not recommend lossy or interlaced. i think bicubic sharper is the clearest i have tried.

posting on tumblr: use these dimensions FOR GIFS. edits can be different. height is up to you - i would not go over 800, but i think my quality looks weird past 600 range anyways.

example gifs: yeji, from example file #1, imported using vs. uses no. 1 sharpening (altered) from my pack. colored. zhanghao, from example file #2, imported using mpv and the load via stack. uses no. 4 sharpening (altered) from my pack. colored. taeyeon, from example file #3, imported using mpv and the load via dicom. uses no. 1 sharpening from my pack. colored. eunbi, from example file #4, imported using vs. uses no. 2 sharpening from my pack. colored.

if your gifs don't look how you want right away, that's okay! it takes time. my first ones were not great either. i am always improving on and working on my gifs. good luck and have fun hehe ♡

#i do not feel that qualified to answer this so caveat im not the best. and please also take ideas from my lovely moots and their resource #tags and tutorials / shared things. they are all so good #m:tutorial #resources #long post #flashing tw #userdoyeons #awekslook #ninitual #useroro tuserflora #useranusia #userchoi

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worlds-end-discotheque · 11 months ago

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This isn’t a fully finished thought-project yet so please bear with me but I’m pretty sure Cuno is the one paying the bills for the de Ruyter apartment.

Or at least he’s trying to.

When you go into Cuno’s apartment, the first thing you realize is the chain and the warning about the electricity. From what we know about how Cuno protects his shack (and the state of his inebriation-comatose father) we can safely assume that Cuno’s the one who chains the door closed whenever he leaves. Obviously, no one in Martinaise would want to leave their home open for any reason, but the apartments clearly have deadbolts installed in the doors— so the chain is an extra measure. Cuno can’t have anything being stolen, even taking the extra effort beyond confidence in his own intimidation to chain it up.

The apartment has two rooms: Uuno’s bedroom, and the living room. Uuno’s bedroom consists primarily of the bed, the clothes line, presumably a dresser or some end table-like surfaces. Plenty of room for his substances and shit.

The living room has the sofa, which is clearly covered in Cuno’s clothing and a makeshift sleeping setup. The risqué pinup on the wall is basically confirmation that this is Cuno’s “space,” not something that he and his dad alternate or share. The L-Couch is Cuno’s bed, bedroom, and dresser, effectively.

Which leads us to the tiny desk. The items on the desk are minimal, but crucial: Cuno’s speed with the straw, Cuno’s textbook and homework, a lamp, the stack of bills, and an open phone book.

We’ve established already that Cuno and his father do not share space. Cuno is already a territorial kid, established by his limited safe zones in his own home. He wouldn’t leave his damn homework out somewhere where his dad could access it; the fact that the homework exists means that beneath his attitude, Cuno clearly has a deep level of care for his schoolwork and at least a desire to complete it. With how terrified he is of his father, there’s no way in hell Cuno would leave his schoolwork out in a place that his father could damage it or get angry for it. Which essentially confirms that the desk is Cuno’s space only.

The speed has its little straw, making it convenient to sip on consistently while doing work at the desk. (I do this with my water tumbler.) especially if you’re at the desk for a long time. With the open phone book, it’s clear that Cuno is at least trying to find the numbers for the companies that the bills are coming from. It’s not just a pile of mail on the desk— he’s doing research into it. Gathering phone numbers to take outside to one of the payphones. The desk is organized, business-like, unlike anything Cuno is— except for how he deals.

Which leads me to my last bit. Cuno’s insistence on selling you shit. Obviously, the best way for this kid to maintain a steady supply for his own addiction is to be a dealer. However, for a 12-year-old boy with a substance addiction in the world of DE where there’s nothing else to do, that level of self-control is absurdly high. There’s a meticulousness to it that betrays a primary aspect of Cuno’s approach: business. Cuno isn’t doing it for popularity, for “cool” points, and if his focus was only his own addiction then he would likely just steal them, take it all for himself. He’s not supplying his dad, that’s for sure. On top of that, he’s got a side hustle selling clothing and other crap he picks up, enough to try and pitch it to Pigs— repeatedly. There’s a lot to buy off Cuno, and it’s the one thing he repeatedly brings up in dialogue options, aside from insults. He wants you to know he’s willing to do business. He needs the money. Because the bills are stacking up, his dad could die any minute, and now he’s got Cunoesse too. (It’s not confirmed if she stays in the apartment with him, and I’m inclined to think not, considering the chain, his fear of her too and the fact that she stands on the other side of the fence than him— there’s a special separation there. There’s also no trace of Cunoesse-noted belongings nor a second space to sleep indicated on the couch; shivers, empathy, none of the skills speak up when inside the apartment about anyone but Cuno and his dad. At the same time, this is again unconfirmed).

I lost what I was talking about here, but the point is. Cuno breaks my heart and I want to adopt and take care of him so badly. It’s one thing to be a delinquent kid, it’s another to be a 12-year-old delinquent kid trying to pay your own damn bills in Martinaise. Fuck, man. I love this kid so much. He breaks my heart.

As much as I yap about my old man yaoi, I think Cuno is my favorite character in DE. He’s just… I need to take care of him. God help me. I wanted to kill his dad so badly. Sigh.

Anyways. That was my thought project. Thought Cabinet just adopted Cunology.

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the-s1lly-corner · 3 months ago

Text

A rest well deserved (Astro x reader)

as promised for assisting in me and my friends attempt to get to floor 20! (we failed/lh), here is @dollie-stars one shot! hooray! not my first dandy fic but its the first that is going to be posted! yay! prompt: astro and the reader unwind after a busy day in gardenview notes: fem toon reader, reader is an age regressor, based off of both mine and the requester's experiences woo!, pre game, short and sweet, admin is still trying to figure out how to write astro so his dialogue may be clunky or off, no use of y/n he calls you starshine/starlight, caregiver astro, not beta read we die like men, you both wind down for a much needed nap, admin has never written caregiver fics in long term so this may be hit or miss word count: 1.7k cws: none

Today had been… busy to say the least. Far from the busiest day Gardenview had seen- no new toon had been released and there were no time limited events that were being hosted that’d draw in some extra waves of people.

To the shock of no one the mains were given the most attention- with Astro being swept away almost as soon as he had set out into the halls. Something you’d grown used to even if it never fully dampened the pang in your gut at being separated from him for so long.

Lunch time was kind enough to grant you about half an hour to catch up over whatever Sprout and Cosmo had cooked up. Something good, usually.

Pizza and cookies were eaten- cutely enough the pastry was modeled after the mentioned celestial toon…

And right back to work.

Taking pictures with visitors, signing any merchandise that they approached you with, and sharing the same sayings from lessons you’ve recited over and over again. It was almost a relief when everyone was warned that Gardenview was closing in five minutes over the intercom.

Five minutes pass, and then a couple more to usher any stubborn stragglers away…. Finally, freedom.

Your steps echoed softly through the halls are you bid your greetings to passing toons.

Goob had craft bits stuck in his fluff, and Gigi was sneaking away with all sorts of lost items left behind in her arms.

“Going up?” Dandy was already in the elevator- Boxten quietly tucked himself to his own corner a few feet away. You speed your pace up to cross the threshold of the door.

“Mhm,” Your hands straighten out your dress. A yawn is clenched back in your teeth- the flexing of the back of your throat more than a little unpleasant. Dandy said something in response as he turned to the buttons of the elevator- stretching up on his toes before falling still.

“You wouldn’t happen to be going to Astro’s?” The flower shot you a glance over his shoulder.

A knowing grin stretched over his face as he swayed slightly on his toes.

Your words stumble slightly.

“Yeah- yeah, I’am,” You mumble sheepishly. Without any hesitation Dandy presses a button and lowers himself back flat to the floor. “Had a hunch you were,” He hummed and looked over to Boxten. Then back to you. “He’s already in his room,” Dandy added with a wink.

The elevator shudders to life and begins to rise…. Motion mixed with the creeping sleepiness in your body swirled into an almost disorienting and unpleasant sensation. You’re silently grateful for the rails installed on the walls of the elevator.

“If you’re lucky you might catch him before he dozes off,” Dandy snickered softly under his breath. You only offer a hum of acknowledgement as you steady yourself.

Slowly the elevator rises… before finally crawling to a stop- ending with a slight jolt.

“Thanks,” You give Dandy a sleepy smile as the door cracks open and reveals itself to Astro’s themed floor. Every main had one- two actually, one for the visitors and one as a personal living space for the main. This floor had many similarities to the one allowed to the visitors; really the main difference was there were more resting areas. Bean bags, sofas, things like that. Slightly smaller too. Still massive compared to the rooms the other toons were given.

You push yourself off of the railing and shuffle your feet forward- the exhaustion no doubt starting to hit in harder waves as your head tries to readjust to being still once more.

“Have a good night-” You look over your shoulder and give the flower one last wave- one that was eagerly returned in a more exaggerated gesture. “You too Boxten-” You manage to quickly squeak in before the door slammed shut… The music box nearly scrambled out a response… failing before the door cut him off.

Quiet once more.

Astro’s floor was cooler compared to the others. That’s how he liked it when he slept- though to be fair he could fall asleep anywhere; and at this point you could too.

The immediate area is scanned.

No sight of him, yet.

You bring your hands up to your mouth and cup them.

“Astroooo?” You call out in a half yell. You never liked yelling around the toon- he wasn’t the easiest to startle but he disliked sudden sounds almost as much as he hated flashes of light. A few seconds pass… nothing…

You suck a breath between your teeth and prepare to call out again- only to fall silent as the first syllable passes through the air. He had heard you the first time.

He shumbled slowly into view around a corner.

“Starlight,” His tired face broke into a sweet smile as his singular eye lands on you. He brings himself closer and closes the wide gap between the two of you. He stops a few steps in front of you… his head is lowered as always, as if it weighs heavy on his shoulders. The sway in his step was apparent as the end of his blanket dragged across the floor.

“You came here fast, did you need something?” He asked. Had it been anyone else the question may have come off as annoyed or impatient. Astro was never the best with tone but with you misunderstandings like that were few and far between.

He had only ever treated you with softness and compassion.

“Missed you,” You mumbled and returned his same tired smile.

Astro hummed softly… and his arms shifted under his blanket. You wasted no time in coming even closer and allowing him to envelope you in the soft fuzzy covers. Two sets of hands gently set themselves on your frame and guide you to the hiding spot the toon had come from.

“I meant to come down and get you, but I couldn’t find you… I assume you went straight for an elevator?” His eye darts to you before focusing back to the path in front of him.

You melt into his hold. Like his room he was cool. Not freezing but he wasn’t the warmest. The blanket made up for the chill… it smelled slightly of lavender and jasmine. It was a wonder Astro could stay awake throughout the day while constantly smelling the fabric.

“I did, it looked like everyone else had the same idea,” You smile as you lean into his shoulder.

“To the elevator I mean… not to your room,” You added sleepily.

Astro hummed softly against you. The vibration meshed into your shoulder- another layer of comfort.

“A sleepover doesn’t sound so bad, it’s been a while,” He turned the corner and while still guiding you he stepped towards the large bed he had made his own. Massive- wide, and absolutely littered with blankets and pillows. No one needed that much bedding… it more so resembled a nest than a bed.

But it was nice, and cozy.

“Not tonight,” He added as he gently set you on the edge of the bed. Astro’s arms shifted off of you for a second to adjust his blanket. Your hands reach forward again in an attempt to grab him and pull him back in.

Astro’s expression softened.

He allows himself to be pulled in as soon as his fidgeting passed. “Did you have a good day?”

He carefully shifts his legs onto the bed- more than a little mindful of his knees as he clambered in while you slightly tugged him onto the mattress.

Neither too soft nor too firm. It was perfect.

You shimmy him to the middle of the bed towards the eye of the mock blanket nest.

“It was real fun,” You let your head come to rest on one of the pillows. The scent of the blanket wafted over you as Astro covered you in it. The bedding carried the same calming fragrance. The lights were dim- fake stars hung around the walls illuminating the space around the bed. Soft music made an ambience for the room. Muffled, quiet, Calming. Comforting. A safe feeling. Almost nostalgic in its own way. Almost like taking a nap while it rained outside.

“Yeah? What did you get up to Starlight?” His arms reach themselves to the top of your head and lightly pat the top of it… pats turned into light circular rubbing.

If you were melting before into the bed… you were now reduced to a pubble of ichor under his hands.

He always loved listening to how your day went, even if he wasn’t much of a talker himself.

“Me and Poppy helped Yatta out with one of her parties- we gave out sodas and candies… Yatta mostly did the candy, though,” You push your face into his shoulder. The toon hummed in response.

“Yatta does throw good parties, doesn’t she?” His hands slipped from your head down to your back. Any tenseness left behind stood no chance. The massage shifts into a hug… and he doesn’t shift as you wrap around him like a koala. If anything he had grown to expect the move and would’ve asked if you were okay if you hadn’t done it. His thumb gently swipes across your spine in one last final movement before falling fully still.

“Why don’t we get you some rest, Starshine,” He shifted you around into a more comfortable position.

You didn’t have it in you to fight back. Even if you did have the energy you didn’t want to wriggle your way from his embrace.

“We can talk more about it after a nap,” Astro added as he rested his chin on top of your head- comfortably nestling your face close to him.

“And after dinner?”

“And after dinner, of course,” He chuckled… then he began to hum a soft tune.

So it was decided- the two of you would spend more time once you were more rested. The threat of oversleeping not much of a problem knowing Sprout would come looking if neither of you turned up to come eat.

The promise of possibly seeing Astro in your dreams added extra encouragement to succumb to sleep.

Not even a minute passed before his humming warbled and gave away to the quiet buzz of white noise in your ears before unconsciousness took over…

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