#tuning

[komplexefotographie]

[tomohirosibuyahappyanimals]

Car Tuning

[taino-ti]

wait do y'all know about Dusty Springfield's Panamanian-Filipina ex-GF who wrote a shit ton of her songs or do I need to put yall on.

[aventurineswife]

Hello! You may ignore my request if you've already written something similar, but I would like to ask for (platonic) AE! Sunday using Tuning (I hope I remember how's it called correctly) on reader (either with consent given after asking if that's alright, or with reader being the one who approaches him for help first), who is currently mentally really unwell because of thinking of bad and/or traumatic past experiences, memories which makes reader really sad, anxious, maybe even guilty? I hope it is not too vague of a description, if it is, you may imply reader having to flee from their home planet, though for a reason not like Sunday had; for example. Have a nice day, I really enjoy your writing! :3

A Gentle Requiem

Summary: Struggling with overwhelming memories and emotional turmoil, you find solace in the quiet presence of Sunday aboard the Astral Express. When he offers to use Tuning to ease your mind, you hesitate—but ultimately, you trust him. Through his gentle guidance, the weight of your past becomes just a little lighter, allowing you to breathe once more.

Tags: Sunday x Reader, Platonic, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Support, Tuning, Healing, Introspection, Found Family, Soft Sunday, Safe Space, Mindfulness, Trauma Recovery.

Warnings: Mental Health Struggles (anxiety, guilt, trauma), Mentions of Past Hardships, Emotional Vulnerability, Memory-Related Distress, Comfort with Consent.

A/N: Awww, thank you!! 🥺💖

The quiet hum of the Astral Express provided a soothing backdrop, the rhythmic vibrations beneath your feet a gentle reminder that, for now, you were safe. But safety didn’t quiet the storm in your mind. The weight of memories—shattered moments of loss, echoes of voices you could no longer hear—coiled tightly around your chest.

You had been fine. Or at least, you told yourself that. But it was getting harder to ignore the way your thoughts sank into old wounds, replaying the past with cruel precision. You had been avoiding everyone, isolating yourself in the dim corridors of the Express, hoping the silence would be kind.

It wasn’t.

That was how Sunday found you—tucked away in one of the less-frequented observation rooms, the vastness of space stretched out beyond the window. He approached with his usual quiet grace, wings shifting slightly as he stepped closer. The golden glow of his halo flickered, as if sensing the turbulence within you.

"You've been carrying something heavy," he observed, his voice soft but certain.

You swallowed, unsure how to respond. There was no point in denying it, not to him. Sunday had a way of seeing through masks, peeling back layers of pretense with a mere glance.

After a long silence, you admitted, "I... can't stop thinking about it. About everything. It’s like I’m trapped in it—no matter where I go, it follows."

Sunday nodded, as if he understood exactly what you meant. "Memories are stubborn things," he murmured. "They root themselves deep, especially the painful ones." He settled beside you, his presence oddly grounding. "Would you like me to help?"

You turned to him, uncertain. "...Help how?"

There was no judgment in his golden gaze, only patient understanding. "Tuning," he answered simply. "I can guide your mind—ease the strain, soften the echoes. It won’t erase anything, nor would I wish to. But I can help you breathe again, even if only for a little while."

The idea was tempting. Your thoughts had become a relentless tide, pulling you under, and you were so, so tired of drowning.

"...Will it hurt?"

Sunday shook his head. "No. But I will need your trust."

You hesitated, but in the end, trust came easier than expected. You nodded.

"Alright."

Sunday raised a gloved hand, hovering just near your temple, waiting for a final confirmation. When you gave the smallest nod, he closed the distance. The touch was light, but the effect was immediate.

A gentle warmth unfurled through your mind, like the first rays of dawn cutting through an endless night. The storm of your thoughts quieted—not silenced, but softened. The jagged edges of pain dulled, the suffocating grip of guilt loosened. Sunday’s presence wove through the memories like a careful hand unwinding tangled threads, not removing them, but allowing you to see them without being consumed.

"You are not your past," his voice echoed through the calm. "Nor are you the weight of what has happened to you."

Tears pricked at your eyes, not from pain, but from the sheer relief of being able to breathe.

Slowly, Sunday withdrew his hand, and the connection faded. The storm was not gone, but it was no longer all-consuming. For the first time in what felt like forever, your mind was your own again.

You exhaled shakily. "Thank you."

Sunday offered a small, knowing smile. "You don't have to carry everything alone."

And for the first time, you believed him.

[its-where-the-wild-things-are]

[yesisgreat]

[wallpapers4screen]

[artstationable]

Fernando Correa

Illustrator- Available for work

artstation

More from «Artstation» here

[thelastdrop007]

[blogwelberfotos-blog]

PORSCHE TUNING OU TUNER

[palm-txt]

[mrs-trophy-wife]

If you can imagine what you please, and if the forms of Your thoughts are as vivid as the forms of nature, you are by virtue of the power of your imagination master of your fate.

—Neville Goddard

[its-where-the-wild-things-are]

[drnikolatesla]

A Night with Tesla: The Future of Electrical Resonance

(This narrative is a creative reimagining of a 1901 interview with Nikola Tesla, titled "Tesla's Twentieth-Century Views," originally penned by Frank L. Perry for the Western Electrician. Presented from a first-person perspective, this piece offers a fun and immersive experience while preserving Tesla's original words about resonance and the future of energy.)

Late one Friday evening in January of 1901, I found myself at the Waldorf-Astoria in New York, sitting down with the legendary inventor, Nikola Tesla. The setting was grand, but Tesla seemed entirely focused, undistracted by the opulence around him. I had been eager to ask him about his latest thoughts on the future of electrical energy, particularly the concept of resonance, or as Tesla often referred to it, “electrical tuning.”

With a mix of excitement and curiosity, I asked, “From your own investigations with high-frequency currents and the transmission of electrical energy, it seems that there’s a great future along these lines. Does the question of ‘electrical tuning’ become a most important one? Will this direct the progress of scientific discoveries in the next decade?”

Tesla leaned forward slightly, his eyes bright with conviction. “You have put a question,” he began, “which not only is of great importance in many arts of the present day, but also throughout the mechanism of the universe. The phenomena of sound and light afford striking examples. I believe that ultimately even nerve action will be proven to involve the principles of ‘sympathetic response.’” His thoughts were as bold as they were profound, suggesting that the very nature of life and nerve function operated on the same principles as electrical resonance.

He continued, ��In my own experiments with electrical and mechanical vibrations, I’ve been impressed by the tremendous possibilities. With a small engine capable of pressing a piston back and forth with a force of just two pounds, I once set an entire block of modern buildings into such violent swaying that people rushed out terrified. And this was done through precise attunement.”

As he spoke, I found myself captivated by the simplicity of his explanation, despite the staggering implications. Tesla didn’t stop with mechanical resonance. He went on to explain his even more astonishing work in electrical vibration. “In electrical vibration,” he said, “I have frequently obtained results that were even more wonderful. The tuning of electric circuits is becoming increasingly important as the arts advance and methods refine. The layman can only have a vague idea of what can be accomplished in this line by those who possess the knowledge and skill.”

I asked him about this skill—how one could master such an art. “Knowledge of the principles is easy enough to acquire,” he admitted, “and one of the best sources of information on the subject comes from Prof. Pupin, whose work makes it accessible even to a beginner. But skill—now that takes patience and untiring dedication.”

The conversation turned to the challenges of refining electrical circuits for optimal resonance. Tesla explained, “Many experimenters don’t realize that an electrical system cannot vibrate freely through an imperfect contact or high resistance. It’s like trying to get a spring to vibrate while holding it firmly—it simply won’t happen.”

He paused for a moment, as though he was envisioning the future even as he spoke. “The transmission of electrical energy through the earth offers the greatest possibilities of development. The time is not far off when electrical oscillations will speed through the globe, each separate and distinct, fulfilling its mission. It’s a seemingly simple subject, but as you advance, it feels as if the wide ocean is opening up before your eyes.”

As we concluded, Tesla recalled an experiment from five years prior, where he had successfully “tuned” 150 circuits, calling each one in turn without disturbing the others. “At the time, I thought I had mastered the art,” he smiled, “but now I see that I was only just beginning to learn.”

Leaving that evening, I felt that I had been granted a rare glimpse into the mind of a true visionary, a man who saw the universe as a symphony of vibrations, with every element perfectly attuned. What Tesla envisioned wasn’t just a technological future—it was a harmonious one. And as we move further into the twentieth century, I can’t help but wonder how much of his grand vision we’ll soon witness.

[audi-rs5]

Audi RS5 , cherry 🍒 red

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