#audio video transfer

[ohboy-herewegoagain]

Do you ever realize that you are holding on to something that might very quickly become lost media?

[magentagalaxies]

EPISODE ONE OF PTSDIVA IS FULLY PRESERVED WOO!!!!!!

[tapestodigitalah]

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[tapestodigitalaus]

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Business Email: contact@tapestodigital.com

About us:

We have a passion for breathing new life into old memories. If you're searching for a company that treats your VHS tapes with the care they deserve and converts them to USB, you've come to the right place!

At Tapes to Digital in Taringa, we are committed to providing outstanding media digitization services tailored to the needs of our community in Taringa and the surrounding areas. This page offers a detailed overview of all the services we provide, along with specific instructions and information unique to our Taringa location. Whether you’re looking to digitize treasured family videos, preserve vintage camcorder footage, or seek expert advice on maintaining broadcast-quality archives, everything you need is right here.

[basilpaste]

im so good at video editing (<- lie)

[mediasos]

VHS video cassette tape to digital video (DVD, Blu-ray, USB, downloadable format). . mediasos.co.uk @mediasos.co.uk @mediasos #media #video #audio #cassette #tape #transfer #audiovisual #digital (at Media SOS) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn4qLT3IH7J/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[tim-shii]

tiktok trends with bf!sae

a/n: my man MY MAN RRAAAAHHHH i need him in my life it is crazy INSANE that hes not real and hes not in my arms rn (p.s sae is taller in this ,, it doesnt specify how tall but just tall enough that he has to lean down for a kiss ty)

it’s a rare occasion that your boyfriend agrees to go along with your antics. a prank, a trend or just him being in the frame. however, sae can’t seem to ever say no when you ask him nicely to do a tiktok with you. he has one condition though: he will never ever do a dance.

" THINK I LIKE YOU BEST WHEN YOU'RE JUST WITH ME "

the green in his eye looks so pretty. it goes perfectly well with the brightness in yours. sae looks straight in the camera as you instructed. yet there’s an itch in his system telling him to look in your direction instead. his pupils are dilating, he knows. and he knows that you notice it too, the growing blush on your face an indication of you acknowledging his obvious adoration. a few seconds before the audio ends, sae turns his head slightly to kiss your cheek. resulting to you dropping the phone. failed ending, yes, your followers found it cute though.

" STAY WITH ME, I DON'T WANT YOU TO LEAVE "

now, this. sae agrees to do this trend with you the moment you showed him the video. why would he refuse? he gets you kissing all over his face. that’s practically heaven to him. the marks are just freebies. after leaving a decent amount of lipstick stains on his face (sae thinks you should’ve left more), you pushed him out of frame and hit the record button. he waits until you purposely smudge the rouge past your lips, his thumb smoothly wiping it away. his periphery catches you sliding the phone to show him in the frame. his eyes are locked on your tinted lips before going back up to lock gazes with you. his hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you closer yet pushing you back simultaneously away from the frame, and his lips meet yours. your lips transferring color to his already rosy ones.

" YOU BETTER LOCK YOUR PHONE "

from what he saw, you either stand there looking pretty or twirl around. either way, all he has to do is walk over, hook an arm around your waist and walk away (in a cool manner). it’s going well a few seconds in. you stand in front of your phone, showing your outfit. he starts sauntering the first time you turn your head to him. the second time you do it, he’s left stunned when you swiftly ran to the other direction. he follows after you, his longer limbs allowing him to catch up to you within seconds. sae throws you over his shoulder and carries you back to where you left your phone, that was still recording. the video ends with him dropping you to your feet and pinching your cheek.

" I'D NEVER FIND SOMEONE LIKE YOU "

this trend is somewhat similar to the other one. it starts with him off the frame and ends together with you. he can only hope you don’t rush out this time. if sae was being honest, the song used is definitely one of his favorites. not his go-to genre to listen to, yes, but he truly does believe you’re out of his league sometimes. he bumps into you at the beat, wide shoulders colliding with yours. he makes sure there’s no aggression behind it, sae doesn’t want you hurt over a video. when you turn back, he’s blessed with a smiling face. your arms wrap around his waist, chin on his chest. sae finds it easier to lean down and capture your lips this way. there’s a warm hand holding the back of your head and the other found its home on your hip. when he pulls away, his eyes drift past you and he’s reminded of the device diarizing this very moment.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist

[reallyromealone]

I am very sad.... (◞‸◟) This because you do not have a masterlist for Yuri on Ice. I love your child fic's ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- , and I want to request can you make omega child reader with Victor and Yuri? (Sorry if I spelt the name wrong)

Title: fight

Fandom: Yuuri on ice

Characters: Viktor, Yuuri, Yuri (mentioned)

Fic type: omegaverse

Pairings: viktuuri

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, child reader, Omega reader, omegaverse, slight angst

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Viktor and Yuuri ended practice early, walking into the school seriously and still in skating gear on Yuuri's end, his skates and bag over his shoulder "who attacked our son?" Yuuri seethed, the Omega scanning the area to spot their seven year old sitting with a bruised cheek and muddied uniform, across was a young alpha boy of the same age who looked worse for wear, uniform messy and muddied and a grimase on his face.

Viktor watched Yuuri go mama bear while he went to check on their pup, the young Omega upset as his papa checked him over "you're little hellion attacked my son!" The Alpha boys sire screamed angrily and Yuuri turned his attention to the other, an alpha woman and beta husband "I want to see the camera footage" Yuuri snapped before the Alpha could scream any further.

"N-now..." The principal tried to calm the Omega "no no, my son doesn't just hit other kids, he knows better now show me the footage" Yuuri snapped and Viktor lifted his tiny pup into his arms, the boy silent as he clung to him.

The parents watched the footage intently, little (name) was minding his business with a few of his friends, the boy and the others were really interested in pokemon cards these days as Viktor always got him a few packets when shopping.

Then came a group of boys, the ringleader being the little alpha, (name) seemed confused as the Alpha boy tried to rip off his collar only for (name) to push him back to keep him at a distance, the Alpha boy growing angry and punching him while screaming something the parents weren't privy to as there was no audio.

"We will be pressing charges" Viktor spoke up, staring at the principal and parents seriously who looked horrified "unless your son formally apologizes, you all get therapy and there will be class transfers on your son's end" Viktor was a reasonable man, the others nodding aggressively with panic as there wasn't a family in the area who didn't know about the skating couple.

(Name) Was quiet on the drive home, Yuuri worried as be held Viktors hand and the two glanced at each other.

"Sweety, do you want to talk about it" Yuuri asked as he sat with his pup, the boy fidgeting and refusing to make eye contact "he said... That I'm just a worthless Omega... That papa only married you because omegas were stupid..." Yuuri remembered seeing the rest of the video as Viktor threatened the parents, (name) lunged at the boy.

"You know that's not true, right?" Yuuri whispered softly and Viktor came in with some hot coco, marshmallows and all for the boy "I know... I was just mad"

"Well we aren't happy that it got violent but I'm glad you stuck up for yourself, my smart wonderful little omega" Viktor kissed the boys forehead and (name) huffed "whatever..."

"You're sounding like your uncle now!" Viktor teased as the family turned on a movie, Yuuri going to get the boy some ice from his swollen cheek, just wanting to care for their pup.

[deleteddewewted]

Long Distance relationship HC W/ König

MDNI

W: NSFW, Sub! König, Dom! Reader, Long Distance Relationship, Fluff, Angst, Orgasm Denial, Teasing, Cute Babygirl König, Bestfriend Elias (He's his wingman and hypeman), Cum Eating (He tastes himself)

He's such a sweetheart. He sends you pictures of strays he finds or of himself doing the most mundane things when he's at the base.

Doesnt matter how far into the relationship you're at, he's still kinda insecure about his face and sending you pictures that show his face.

He has his friend Elias though, so the guy gives him pep talks to boost his confidence.

Sometimes he does it too well cause you'll be getting a whole 12 pics of him in a span of 5 minutes all different angles and levels of motion blur.

Emoji user so expect kissy faces and hearts at the end of messages.

He texts you at ungodly hours but he'll stop if you ask him to.

He will stay up late in order to send you a good morning text.

He sometimes holds onto his pillow and pretends it's you.

You both have met a few times in person but even then it didn't feel like enough for him.

He wanted to envelop you in his arms, keep you flush against his body, and just lay there forever.

(Such a romantic, I know.)

He wishes he didn't need to leave your side but he also knows asking you to move with him wherever he goes is risky and inconsiderate of you.

He'll never make you choose so instead he promised you he'll be the one asking for a transfer once he feels ready/is forced into a less demanding position.

He just wants to live with you in the end.

He dreams of little kids running around in the living room while he embraces you from behind and lays his head on top of your own.

He can feel himself blush every time he dreams of you both finally being together and having a family.

He calls you sometimes, maybe even facetime you if he feels confident and does things with you.

He eats with you on facetime, gets himself ready for the day, changes clothes, takes a shower, cooks, anything really.

He just wants to pretend that you're both together and do theses mundane things together.

NSFW

He's so horny and it's somewhat pathetic.

He whimpers every time he jerks off and it's cause he's so sensitive. The tip of his cock is always this deep red and it looks painful.

He likes to tease himself by dragging his fingers over his length and over the veins and thinking it's you doing this to him instead of himself.

He doesn't know if cumming at a picture of you on his phone is creepy or not so he never asks you to send him anything to help him out.

If you do send him nudes or videos, maybe even audio, of yourself masturbating just know that he's going to be running to the community showers or finding some storage closet to get off in.

Because he's so pent up he needs to be quiet when he gets off. He's sharing a room with other people and sometimes the bases he's staying at doesn't provide individual barracks.

Fucks his pillows or makes a makeshift pocket pussy that he can fuck into like a dog.

In the rare case, he gets his own private barracks, he's calling you and you're both going to have some cute phone sex.

Cute phonesex? How?

Well, he's a talker and a whiny guy so he's throwing out praises like your some kind of divine being.

"Bit- Bitte! L- let me cum meine liebe~" He almost screamed into the phone but he'll be ok. He won't go against anything you say or do.

He wants to please you no matter if it means he'll have to go the next 48 hours or week hard and uncomfortable.

When he does get to cum he's thanking you profusely.

"D-anke, dan-ke, danke~!" Breathing heavy and light-headed he still finds it in himself to be grateful for you helping him relieve some of the tension he's been having.

What a good boy.

He stays on the line for a while longer just to tell you just how much he loves you and can't wait to meet up again.

He wants to hold you and take care of you and its painful to watch you take care of yourself after he got off.

He feels like it's unfair but he promises you, even though it's not necessary, that he'll devote the entire time to taking care of your needs.

Don't skip out on the praise either. He likes being told he's your good boy.

Give him kisses too. The feeling of your lips on his face is reassuring.

But, while you're both apart, just tell him that you love him and can't wait to be with him in person.

That's all the motivation he needs to make sure to keep his injuries to a minimum.

[commodorez]

Got a "new" laptop: Toshiba T4900CT!

Presumably this is the highest end machine they made in this color scheme before moving onto the gray plastic computers, like what @aperture-in-the-multiverse has. This machine is technically not a Satellite, but it's Satellite-adjacent.

Pentium I at 75MHz 40MB of RAM 8GB CF card for a hard drive VLB video chipset driving an SVGA 640x480, 64K color 10.4" active matrix TFT-LCD Analog Devices AD1848KP & Yamaha OPL3 audio Windows 95B (originally shipped with 3.11)

And a broken floppy drive!

Seriously, you have to disassemble the entire computer to get at the floppy drive itself, and I'm pretty sure the belt is busted. So far I've worked around it, but it's getting to be annoying. The good news is that the hard drive is accessible from a separate bay, unlike other contemporary Toshiba laptops that bury it just like the floppy drive.

Oh, and Toshiba was really intent on protecting their highly proprietary Toshiba Card Manager 3.0 software (which I'm sure this post will poison that search term for all others, it always happens when I talk about technical things here -- sorry). I'm betting that they only had it installed on machines from the factory, but if you needed to reinstall it, things got complicated. Turns out you had to get a passphrase from some convoluted bullshit on their website back in the mid 90s, and this only applied to a select handful of machines that were even compatible with it in the first place. I don't imagine I will be able to use that for PCMCIA hotswap management, which sucks.

Another fun bit is that despite being released in 1995, this machine is clearly intended to run Windows 3.1. None of the drivers I was able to locate for the hardware are the expected VXD or INF files.

For the moment, I've got a Backpack external floppy drive connected via the parallel port, but all other file transfers involve me removing the CF card from the hard drive bay. It's faster that way. Hopefully I can get this thing configured well enough to use it.

[nanaminsmoon]

𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭.

a/n: this is the quickest piece of writing i’ve ever done and it’s because it was meant to be a joke because i just think this audio is mad funny...but it’s not too bad. i didn’t even think i’d upload anything today but this happened so enjoy i guess:))

cw: oral (m receiving), ony is just overstimulated, ony calls reader ‘baby’, n word usage.

wc: 922 + i only reread this once

‘don’t you know i will make you nut until you fucking cry? d’you hear me? you’ll be nuttin’ and cryin’ at the same damn time.’

watching a lot of tiktok meant that you often annoyed ony with random videos in his messages, and phrases you found funny. although he told you to stop, you knew he loved it really. so you didn’t stop. something you found particularly hilarious was the audio of that one guy saying ‘don’t you know i will make you nut until you fucking cry. d’you hear me? you’ll be nuttin’ and cryin’ at the same damn time’. so that phrase had graced ony’s ears multiple times. a day. he didn’t use tiktok as much as you—the only reason he even had it was so you could send him videos you liked. so the first time he had heard it, his ears had perked up in curiosity; he didn’t know you were referencing something else, so he just thought you were threatening him with some lifechanging head. but you clarified, and he slumped into the couch as he played 2k.

seeing that reaction, you decided to just give the man what he wanted, and now he had nutted three times; the first in your mouth, the remnants of the second were on your chin and his thighs, and the third was on your chest. your actions had been true of your words—albeit playful, and not necessarily your own, they hadn’t been shy of your true intentions. the headset, that had once been atop ony’s head, had been taken off, and sat next to him. it had been the only audience member observing the sloppily lewd noises coming from the place your mouth and his dick met. all assisted by the hands that paid great attention to the places your mouth couldn’t reach. his midsection was covered in a heedless mixture of his nut, your spit, and his sweat. his beautiful brown skin shining like honey covered chocolate, melting under immense heat. and there’s nothing you wanted more than to taste the sweetness on your tongue; transferring onto you to settle on your tastebuds.

pearly whites held his white tank top as his eyes were painfully closed. his attempt to look down at you was delayed by eyelashes sticking together, salty murmurs of overstimulation acting as an adhesive to keep them united. keeping his eyes shut was the only thing he could control; his hips moved on their own, following the wetness between your plump lips to get another release. it was relief ony wasn’t sure he wanted, he didn’t think he could handle it. and his neck made sure to warn him of that—whipping his head from side to side as he searched for an avenue of relief that wouldn’t leave him shooting blanks.

if the sounds in the room hadn’t been overshadowed by amplified suction noises, you would’ve heard the quiet cracking noises produced as a result of how hard he was curling his toes. you had long snatched that nigga’s soul, and now you were just cleaning up the crumbs, making sure his chest would now hold a you shaped hole.

maybe that hole would be reminiscent of the one at the back of your mouth, wrapping itself around his tip as you swallowed around him.

“y/n, b-baby, n-no more” , his shaky hand lifted to softly push your forehead back. but his hips couldn’t help fucking your mouth more, pushing himself further inside you, and whining every time you gagged. the volume of ony’s whimpers was the highest it had ever been—his vocal cords could not find it in themselves to move in a way low enough to duplicate his usual growls, and groans. so they remained stagnant at high-pitched whimpers and whines, loud cries filling the living space.

ultimately, you kept to your promise, and ony’s eyes brimmed with salty streams of overstimulation, before the streams merged into a waterfall that fell down his soft cheeks.

“y-y/n, nnghh—ffffuckk”, his voice felt like it was going hoarse with how hard he was pushing his voice to form intelligible words and sounds. and his chest heaved deeply as he tried to stabilise himself again. the first step of said process being a firm palm pushing you back, causing you to fall back onto the rug. giggling at the mess you had made of the man you loved. his fourth, and final, nut came out in small specks. and you saw the visceral juxtaposition of delightful agony painted all over face; his lips had parted but all they could muster was heavy breaths. this man was fucking drooling onto the couch cushions, and you just giggled again.

“you asked for it”, you chortled, getting up to make your way to the bathroom to get some warm towels to clean you both up.

as delicate as your hands were, ony still winced at your gestures of kindness. sorry hands still felt tainted by lust as you cleaned off the fruits of your slobbery labour. you wanted your own relief, but you knew ony wasn’t in the headspace to give it to you so you just continued wiping him down. you could’ve sworn the overstimulation had knocked him out, but then you heard faint grumbles through unstable, and snotty sniffles,

“stay off that fucking app.”

© Rights owned by nanaminsmoon. Do not repost without permission.

[toweringclam]

After reading some responses to the latest Doctor Who, "73 Yards," I realized that a folkloric faerie story might be alien to modern audiences. However, there's a good modern equivalent, and I thought I'd try my hand at putting the story in a more familiar form.

"73 Yards"

Item #: SCP-17347

Clearance Level: 2/Restricted

Object Class: Euclid

Disruption Class: 2/Elam

Risk Class: 3/Warning

Special Containment Procedures: All Foundation personnel are to maintain at least a 32-foot (10 meters) distance from SCP-17347-1 unless necessary to protect civilians, in which case personnel are to use antimemetic ear and eye covering to reduce exposure to her effects. Otherwise, Foundation personnel in the field are forbidden from approaching, interacting with, or acknowledging the existence of the entity in any way. Should this prove unavoidable, personnel are to disable all communication devices to prevent the effect spreading. Any Foundation personnel inadvertently exposed to SCP-17347-1's effects are to be administered class A amnestics and transferred to a different site. Should this fail to relieve symptoms, they are to be offered early retirement with full benefits and disability pay.

Grade C surveillance is to be maintained on SCP-17347-2 with a primary goal of preventing civilian exposure to SCP-17347-1's effects. While SCP-17347-2 will generally avoid being separated from SCP-17347-1, should this occur Foundation assets are to intervene and ensure the 73 yard (67.75 meter) distance is maintained.

Description: SCP-17347-2 is a 21-year-old female Caucasian approximately 5'2" (157 cm) tall, with green eyes and natural brown hair that she prefers to dye blonde. A major identifying feature is a scar on her right eyebrow of unknown origin. Her demeanor is generally cooperative despite signs of psychological trauma related to abandonment. Attempts to gain SCP-17347-2's cooperation should use the subject's given name, "Ruby S█████," while focusing on reassurance that she is not alone and that the Foundation has her best interests at heart.

SCP-17347-1 is an entity of unknown origin, appearing as an elderly female Caucasian with white hair and wearing a long black overcoat. Due to its anomalous properties, it is impossible to form a more precise image of the entity. Methods of indirect observation such as cameras always show the subject with the same resolution as a human eye with 20/20 vision observing the subject from a distance of 73 yards (67.75 meters). Even anomalous means of observation are subject to this effect.

SCP-17347-1 maintains a constant distance of 73 yards (67.75 meters) from -2. Despite having a demonstrable physical presence, she does not appear to move when observed, instead relocating between blinks or lapses in attention. This effect is observable even on recorded video. Objects offer no hindrance, and the entity is able to keep pace with the fastest available Foundation land vehicles.

Attempting to transport SCP-17347-2 via air, sea, or other methods where SCP-17347-1 would theoretically not be able to follow have thus far failed due to anomalous weather activity. The temperature will plummet rapidly and produce out-of-season snowfall, escalating to blizzard conditions, and in one case flash-freezing a portion of the English Channel. The effects abate immediately should efforts to transport SCP-17347-2 cease.

Any attempt to interact with SCP-17347-1, including but not limited to attempts to harm, hinder, communicate with, or describe the entity will trigger her memetic effects, and can spread to secondary subjects nearby or through live audio/visual communication. Anyone subject to these effects will develop an intense antipathy towards SCP-17347-2. In civilians, this most often manifests as fear, but it can take other forms, such as anger, disgust, hurt, and disdain. The particular manifestation appears to matter less than the effect: an immediate and overwhelming desire to completely distance oneself from SCP-17347-2 in the most expedient and thorough way possible, including refusing to enter an establishment she frequents, changing their name and moving to a different country, resigning public positions, and, in one case, self-termination. Amnestics have no effect on this, though they may be administered to affected individuals to reduce psychological trauma associated with past and theoretical future interactions with SCP-17347-2

Testing has concluded that this effect includes indirect and negative means of interaction, with no known limit on range. D-Class subjects proved unwilling to push a button if informed that it would expose SCP-17347-2 to an intense, loud noise, even under threat of termination.

Those affected by SCP-17347-1 will only be able to refer to her in the most vague terms, describing her as "Shaped like she is," or "Looking like she is supposed to." They are unable or unwilling to explain the source of their antipathy, even under extreme duress, with the most common response being, "Ask her," refusing to clarify whether they mean -1 or -2.

At all times, SCP-17347-1 performs a looping series of gestures that appear to be an attempt to communicate in a form of sign language. However, the gestures are either not found in ASL or BSL (American or British Sign Language), or performed so poorly as to be unrecognizable.

Discovery: SCP-17347 came to the Foundation's attention following a failed operation to apprehend SCP-17347-1 by UK paranatural security organization UNIT (Unified Intelligence Taskforce). UNIT director Dr. K███ L█████████-S██████ (Dr. K for brevity) was exposed to the effects during an operation and ordered all information on SCP-17347-2 purged from UNIT databases and her files burned, on grounds of "Wasting precious resources on someone who doesn't f██████ matter)." Embedded agents and spy software were alerted to the purge and managed to save some documents. Official UNIT liaisons attempted to recover the remainder of the documents, but Dr. K vehemently refused and threatened to cut ties between our organization if pressed on the issue, yet she readily accepted amnestics when offered, to "Get her out of my goddamn head forever."

Addendum 1: From recovered documents, SCP-17347-2 appears to be a former associate of PoI-3 ("The Doctor") though what relevance that may have is unknown. -2 has shown reluctance to speak on this subject explaining, "That's when it started. The second time someone abandoned me forever. Not the last, though. Not the last."

PoI-3 has not been sighted since the anomaly began.

Addendum 2: Additional anomalous properties only came t o light during the documentation process. All measurements related to her must be conveyed in Imperial units first, though metric can be provided in parentheses. Also, both entities must be referred to with feminine singular pronouns, even when referring to both of her. Further research into this effect with languages lacking singular feminine pronouns is pending.

(I thought about adding interviews and testing logs, but I think you get the idea, and this had better get me like 500 notes from how much effort I put into it even without that)

[kbs-and-fds]

Yo, Welcome to my photography blog!

This is a photography project with a focus on older digital cameras sold before the mid 2000s. I've been working with these sorts of cameras since 2022, which grew from my interest in retro computers that I have had since 2020 or so. Here, I'll introduce you to my cameras, my computer rig, and try to convince you that this is a cool hobby.

General Q & A:

Whats in the name? - Kb refers to Kilobyte, all of the photos I take with these cameras only take up a little over 100 Kilobytes of digital storage per photo. FD refers to the physical media the photos are stored in, currently one camera uses floppy disks (FD), the other two use compact flash (CF) and smart media (SM) cards. unfortunately, their shortened forms do not rhyme and so they do not matter.

What can I expect from this blog? - amateur photography using old cameras, I guess. I'll say some nonsense below each photo but you're free to ignore it. I don't plan on reblogging anything here, so don't expect that. I am the star of this blog. me me me. I tend towards finding weird buildings/architecture, "liminal spaces", sunsets, and generally trying to see how well I can make a photo look like a blender render in a Kane pixels video. don't expect any consistency, though. the medium will remain the same but the vibes will absolutely fluctuate with my mood. I'll try and tag things correctly if it's off putting.

Are you a cool person? - I tend to be! I don't want this place to be alienating for anybody but assholes who don't deserve to see the stuff I do. being a tumblr blog, I follow a lot of the standard stuff. jerks are not welcome and I'm not gonna give you the pleasure of an argument if you do turn your head round these parts.

who are you? - trans pan girl. takes pictures. listens to Femtanyl. much unlike Peter Parker.

My Cameras

Mavica FD-7

released in 1997, this was the second of Sony's "Digital Mavica" line of cameras. it records photos of around 50Kbs in size to a standard 3 1/2" floppy disk. it has some standard features like a manual focus wheel, 10x optical zoom, and exposure control. I haven't found a strict source but I believe this camera is less than one megapixel. I actually have a few different Mavica cameras (a fd-71/75/83/85/87 and a cd-1000) but they aren't different from the fd-7 enough to justify being used often. I'll make note on individual posts if I use 'em at all.

Kodak DC220

released in 1999, with a quality of exactly one megapixel the DC 220 is a weird little thing. it has custom software, connects to a computer via com ports with a transfer speed of ~11,000 bit/s. (roughly 30-60 seconds per photo in my experience) you can add custom text to your photos in the cameras built in software, and attach custom audio to each photo. it is a pain in the butt to get working, but it's quirks make it worth the frustration.

Olympus E-10

made in 2000 with a quality of a whopping four megapixels, the Olympus E-10 is the newest addition to my collection, and possibly the nicest camera I'll ever own. it's a fixed lens DSLR camera capable of 4x zoom, you can easily adjust the aperture and exposure on the fly, it's photos tend to be a whole 100kb in size (1/10th of a megabyte!) and to be entirely honest I have no idea how to use it. but I will eventually!

My Computer

I try to use all era-appropriate tech to transfer photos and do any edits, this is the computer I do all that processing on! its a Dell Optiplex gx1- the daddy of pretty much any computer used in public schools (Chromebooks don't count) It's got a Pentium 3 CPU clocking at 500MHz, 512mb ram, running windows ME. it has all the original Kodak DC220 software installed, and I can't really access the Kodak's photos any other way. I've also got a few other weird bits attached to it -an HP sketch pro cad tablet and an external data cartridge SCSI device. both work, but I don't really bother to use them, they just look neat.

that's about it. have a good one! thanks for reading this all, if you did.

[buckychristwrites]

About You | Day 8 | j.t.

Summary: Your job? Pop culture journalist for The Independent. Your assignment? To write a profile on the cocky footballer that you're publicly feuding with.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Discussing tits?? Cussing. Enemies to lovers

A/N: Let me know what you think! :)

Masterlist | About You Masterlist | Main Blog

“Holy shit!”

Keeley’s face was horrified by the picture on your screen. It was your face the morning after the match. The bruising had spread from the bridge of your nose to your forehead and your cheeks. The swelling had been minimal, and you were lucky that you hadn’t gotten a black eye. You had still taken the day after the match off, however, for that reason, and because you desperately needed to get started on the article. 

Though, it had been weird being away. That had been the first day in a week where you didn’t see or hear from Jamie. There were too many instances where you thought about texting or phoning him. But ultimately, you didn’t speak to him at all. Maybe that was why you were able to be so productive. You had gotten a decent chunk written, and had transferred the audio, video and picture files all onto your laptop and organised them. 

But now you were back in action, face caked in makeup to hide the extensive bruises and anti-inflammatories taken to bring the swelling down. When you ran into Keeley in the car park, she had asked if you knew why Jamie had been pulled from the match. Roy, she had said, was so angry about it, despite the win they still claimed, that he just couldn’t tell her. So of course, you had to tell her what had happened. 

“He really pummelled him though?” She asked. You nodded. She looked pleased. “Good for him. That prick sounds like he deserved it.” Retelling the story had brought back the feelings from the day prior, making you shake your head.

“I’ve never been defended like that before.” 

You weren’t looking at her as you stared at the picture of yourself, but you could feel her studying your expression. 

“Jamie’s amazing to have on your side once you have him,” She said in a quiet voice. When you looked at her again, you could see what she was thinking just by the look on her face. It felt like she was seeing right through you, reading your mind. Maybe she was.

“He is,” You finally said with a nod. She nodded back in understanding, biting back a smile. 

You tried to distract yourself from the butterflies in your stomach. The breeze felt nice, blowing just enough to cool you down from the sunny warmth without being considered too windy. It felt a little too bright outside, but maybe that was from the injury you were sporting. Your head had been incredibly sensitive, easily developing a headache at the drop of a hat.

“Quite a relationship the two of you have developed over the last week,” She remarked innocently before taking a sip of her coffee. You broke eye contact as you began to look around. 

“It’s crazy what can be accomplished after yelling at each other in the car about our feelings,” You told her. 

Keeley was never a stupid woman, and you never took her for one. You could dance around the topic as much as you wanted, but you could tell by the way she looked at you in this moment, that she knew everything about the conundrum going on in your head. For a brief second, you considered the idea of talking to her about it. Maybe she’d have some insight for you. She was, after all, the most qualified person you knew to give you advice when it came to player number 9 of AFC Richmond. You took a deep breath.

“Can I tell-”

“Are we workin’ out here today?” 

The both of you jumped a kilometre in the air before whirling around. Jamie approached with a look of amusement on his face.

“Fuckin’ Christ, Jamie,” Keeley scolded with a hand dramatically over her heart. “You nearly gave me a fuckin’ heart attack.” He couldn’t help but grin mischievously while she continued to shake her head. Your heart was racing, and you knew it wasn’t just due to the fear you had felt moments before. 

“Sorry,” He said, without an ounce of apology in his tone. When he glanced at you, he immediately looked away, the smile on his face seeming to fade away. “Erm, would I be able to talk to ya?” He asked, his eyes finding you again. You looked over at Keeley with a look that begged her to stay.

“Well, see you guys later!” She said. If you hadn’t been paying attention, you would’ve missed the wink she gave you before scurrying off and disappearing through the door. 

“Right, erm.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking around as if something in the car park would help him. You watched him carefully. He looked so guilty, and sad. 

“I just, erm…” He tried again, but trailed off. Finally, he inhaled, clapping his hands together. “We missed ya at practice yesterday.” You bit the inside of your cheek.

“I missed it too,” You said. Though you knew that’s not what you missed. “I just… I just needed a day for proper work and rest, I think.” He nodded in understanding. 

“Your face looks much better than I thought it would,” He said, lifting a hand to point to where you got hit. You stared at his fingertips and remembered how they felt when cradling your head in that little room during the match. It was like your cheeks had the feeling burned into them, for they suddenly grew very warm. You felt embarrassed by how much you wish he would do it again.

“I’m wearing makeup,” You admitted before showing him the picture on your phone. His hand instantly went to face, running downward from his eyes to his chin before dropping back down to his side. His knuckles on that side were covered in bruises, and you had to actively tell yourself to look away.

“I should’ve been more worried about keepin’ you safe than lettin’ me anger get the best of me,” He said. “I know you said it wasn’t me who hit ya, but it still wouldn’t’ve happened if I hadn’t acted like a loon. I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I’m just so sorry.”

You wracked your brain in a desperate attempt to say something, anything, that would make him feel better. But you knew it was all in vain. You knew, in that moment, he was hearing his dad in his head, calling him a fuck up and a monster, or whatever it was he was thinking. But it was all in his expression, as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the pavement. 

“You stood up for me,” You reminded him. “You were trying to protect me and keep me safe.” He nodded.

“I was worried ‘bout you bein’ upset by the way you rushed off after the match.”

It was true. When you had woken up back at Richmond that night, with Jamie’s arm around you and head using yours as a pillow, you were filled with a lovely feeling. The team were piling out at the time, clearly having seen the two of you already and no longer paying it any mind. You had woken him gently, allowing him to pull away from you on his own before you rose from your seat. A quick goodbye was exchanged before you left, trying and apparently failing, to appear nonchalant as you stepped off the coach and headed to your car. 

“Then you didn’t come in the next day,” Jamie continued, shrugging his shoulders. “I just… I just wanted to make sure you and I are alright.”

You wanted to comfort him with more than just words. With a hug, or the squeeze of a hand. It didn’t feel like the right moment, and you weren’t sure how he would handle the gesture, so you decided against it. You were suddenly hyper aware of your hands at your sides, so you shoved them in your pocket. 

“Of course we’re alright,” You said. “No other mate of mine would ever do what you did for me. You may have just gotten promoted to my best friend.” This seemed to placate him, for his face relaxed, now smiling slightly.

“You don’t have any friends who’d break a person’s teeth for ya?” He asked, astonished when you shook your head. “Sounds like ya need to get new mates, yeah?” You turned and started to walk towards the door, him following close behind.

“What makes a person a good friend to you?” You asked him as the fresh air turned into air conditioning. The hallway seemed more sparse than usual, but you wondered if that was because the two of you were now considered tardy.

“They just give a fuck about ya,” He explained, waving to the always excited security guard. “I used to think a good mate was just someone who I knew for a long time and could go to the club with.” He took a long moment to think. “But… now I know that the length of time doesn’t matter, it’s the quality of the person.”

As much as you felt bad about it, you were shocked by his answer.

“That was really thoughtful, Jamie,” You said, staring at him in awe. He straightened his posture. 

“I can be thoughtful, sometimes.” 

Upon entering the changing room, you were surrounded instantly by players, who all began talking at once and looking over you. You looked around between all of them, overwhelmed as you tried to pick out some of what they were saying.

“Is your nose okay?”

“We were worried when you didn’t come in yesterday!”

“Is it broken? It looks the same…”

“Gentlemen!” You announced, raising your hands up. They all stopped, the silence a huge contrast from a moment before. “My nose is fine, and not broken. It’s just very bruised and painful. I just needed to get some work done and rest my head yesterday, but I missed you all too.” 

They all calmed, even looking happy at your words. 

“Where’s the bruising?” Van Damme asked, looking closely at your face. “I don’t see any.” You pulled your face away.

“I’m wearing makeup, goofy.” He straightened, making an O shape with his mouth. 

“Women are so magical with their makeup abilities,” Dani said in a dreamy tone. “Shapeshifters, they are.” Rolling your eyes with the biggest smile on your face, you turned around and returned to Jamie, who had been watching the whole exchange with an amused grin.

“They really like ya,” He informed you. In the middle of pulling your notepad from your pocket, you froze and looked at him.

“They were more than worried when you didn’t come yesterday, they were havin’ a strop about it.” He pulled his shirt off. You tried not to stare. “Kept askin’ me if you were in hospital or somethin’.” You looked around at the team, who were now getting changed and not paying you any mind. It hadn’t occurred to you that you hadn’t just turned things around with Jamie, you had also changed things with them, as well. When you had started coming around, just over a week ago, they were all standoffish towards you, sending glares at every chance and keeping their distance. Now, they seemed to care about you just as much as you cared about them.

The coaches entered, looking around at the team. Their eyes all fell on you at once, and you thought they would be indifferent. But they all seemed to look almost relieved at the sight of you. The moment was gone as quick as it started, as they began to address the team while you took your notes.

Back to business as usual.

It was an average day on the pitch. For the first hour, you watched as normal. But you began to feel yourself getting antsy, as it seemed to be something you had been watching the same thing over and over again. You thought about the things you’d need from the article. Plenty of pictures filled your phone of him playing, but maybe taking pictures of the stadium itself would be nice. There were lots of pictures and posters of him hanging out that had been proudly displayed by ownership. Maybe you could get a comment from someone who wasn’t a player.

Taking one last look at the pitch, you snuck off to the tunnel. You made an effort to not look back once more to see if your leaving was noticed. The prickle you felt on the back of your neck let you know that at least one person was watching you.

There was something so serene about the club when the hallways weren’t swimming with people. The history on the walls were so fascinating, and being able to have the chance to walk around and actually soak it in made you giddy. Meeting people and interviews were all well and good, but this was your favourite part of your job. The research, the learning, the things you got to see that the layperson did not. You looked at every picture of previous teams, looking for familiar faces and feeling excited when you actually found them. 

When you got to the current team’s picture, you felt a surge of pride as you took a photo of it. This team had become so important to you in the last week, and you found yourself wondering if you would feel the same in a week, a month, even a year. Would they say hello if they saw you at an event? Would they reply to your comment amongst a sea of fan replies on Instagram? Would they even care to remember you once you're gone?

As per usual these days, your thoughts floated back to Jamie, the same questions still standing. You knew these feelings went far beyond friendship at this point. Would it even matter, in the end, after you went back to your normal job? You’re just you, and he is Jamie Tartt, footballer legend extraordinaire, the best of his generation. He had pieces done about him all the time by interviewers from around the world. Fans adored him, and would cry, yell and faint on the street over him. He met women and men who were, let’s face it, richer, more beautiful and more interesting than you ever could’ve dreamed of. 

You were just a silly little journalist who caught a silly little crush on the mad famous footballer. The one who, incidentally, you had hated just a few months prior. What a world.

“Are you alright?”

You shrieked, whirling around to find Rebecca Welton standing there looking like an absolute bombshell while also looking positively fearful.

“I’m so sorry,” She said as you slapped a hand over your chest. “I just saw you standing there-”

“No no, it’s alright,” You said, finally catching your breath. The skin on your cheeks felt like it was melting off from how hot they were. “I just got lost in thought, is all. I’m okay. How are you, Rebecca?” She looked surprised, even hesitant, by your question. 

“I’m well, thank you.”

The two of you just stood there for a long moment, looking around awkwardly. You put your phone in your pocket before folding your hands together in front of you. This was the first time you had seen or spoken to her since the first day. While you weren’t going out of your way to avoid her, it did make you feel better to not see her. The first impression you had gotten was that she didn’t really want you around, so you felt you were helping her out by keeping yourself scarce.

“The team seems to have warmed up to you,” She said, a little quickly. “Keeley says that Jamie and you have become… quite close?” You nodded.

“Shocking, I know,” You said with a laugh. “It was a surprise to everyone.” You wished deeply in that moment that she was easier to read. She was smiling, but she was the type of person where she could smile at you while also planning your murder and allocating the resources and money for it at the same time. 

“I do hope that means that the negative articles about my players stop,” She said, still smiling. In this moment, you wished desperately that you were back on the pitch. Or maybe dead in an alley. Anywhere, really, would be better than this.

“Yes, I’ll find someone else to slander,” You said. Your heart dropped, stunned, when she actually laughed at this. The sound of it sucked the air from your lungs.  

She began to walk away, but stopped, raising a finger before turning back to face you. 

“Are you still going to the Gala?”

You looked back at her again. 

“I am,” You told her. “Wouldn’t miss it!” She nodded, looking around the hallway before back at you.

“Have you decided on an outfit yet?” She asked. “It’s black tie.” You shook your head.

“I have some dresses in my closet. I’ll probably go with one of those.” This time, it was her turn to shake her head.

“Oh. No, no,” She said, waving you off. She looked you up and down, seeming to assess you. You could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. “I’ll send you some ideas. You let me know which one you want, and I’ll have it sent to your apartment by morning.” 

Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth now agape. 

“Rebecca, I can’t let you do that,” You said, the shock filling your voice. “I appre-” She waved you off again, which made you shut your mouth.

“I won’t hear a word otherwise,” She said before giving you a lovely smile. “Just let me know which one you think suits you best. Preferably by the end of the day.” She turned around and began to make her way down the hall, leaving you dumbfounded.

“Thank you!” You called after her. She didn’t speak, but instead she waved behind her. You continued to watch her. 

“Do you already know where I live or something?”

When the team returned to the changing room, you were already on the bench in front of Jamie’s locker with your legs crossed atop the wood. You had returned to take pictures of the locker room, having gotten what you wanted from the rest of the stadium. Now, you sat on your phone, scrolling through the dresses that Rebecca had sent you. 

“Where’d you disappear off to?” Jamie asked, leaning over your shoulder to see what you were looking at. He let out a low whistle. “What are those for?” 

“The Gala,” You said, trying and failing to hold back your excitement. “Rebecca said she’d get me whatever dress I want. For free!” You huffed. “I can’t decide which one though.” Snatching your phone from your hands, he began to scroll through them himself.

“These are for you?” He asked quietly, looking at you before looking at the dresses. You eyed him nervously, about to ask him to give you his honest opinion when-

“What’s for you?” Sam asked, taking the phone from Jamie, who gave him an angry look. Sam studied the phone, about to open his mouth before Isaac took the phone from him, who then had it immediately stolen by Van Damme. 

“This one is lovely,” Van Damme said as he started to show you which one he was referring to, but then Richard snatched it from him. When he looked through the options, he snorted.

“You are crazy!” He said to Van Damme. “The best one is this one!” Colin yanked the phone, although it was quite a fight this time as Richard had quite the grip on it. 

“This one would really bring out her eyes though,” Colin retorted, showing Richard another one. Dani grabbed the phone and looked, giving you a precious smile.

“You would look lovely in all of these,” He said kindly. You blushed while Bumbercatch looked over Dani’s shoulder.

“You have to pick the best one, bruv,” Isaac grunted. “We already know she’d look lovely in all of them!” You peaked over at Jamie, who was a mix of annoyed and amused. Everyone began debating, voices louder and louder as time went on. You watched the entire thing without the smiling on your face faltering at any point. 

The door to the coaches’ office burst open, and Roy and Coach Beard made their way out. Their presence did not calm a soul in the room.

“OI!” Roy shouted. Everyone froze to look at him. He looked around at everyone, being sure that every single person in the room got an individual glare before saying, “What the hell is going on here?”

Within ten minutes, the dresses had been printed out and taped to the whiteboard, your phone having thankfully been returned. Coach Beard was at the board with a pointer in his hand. Everyone was talking over each other.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, let’s talk this out like adults,” Beard exclaimed as the voices slowly came to a stop. “Now through door number one is this lovely ankle length dress with a straight cut neckline and spaghetti straps.” He paused for a second, presumably for the drama. “Elegant. One might even say… chic. A beautiful red for a black tie evening. Will definitely stand out.” 

“What if she doesn’t want to stand out?” Jamie called out.

“It’s a Charity Gala, Tartt. Every woman wants to stand out!” Isaac shouted. 

Jamie rolled his eyes, mumbling under his breath about how none of these blokes know you at all. You ignored the flutter in your tummy as you continued to watch the mayhem.

“Door numero dos!” Beard exclaimed, a little louder this time. “A pink mini dress with a frilly skirt, heart neckline and no straps.” You shrugged.

“I don’t know if I have the tits for that one?” You admitted. The room erupted, everyone yelling at you. You shrugged defensively, throwing your hands up. “I’m just saying!” They continued to pop off.

“You have beautiful tits!”

“It’s not the tits, it’s the heart of the girl who wears them!”

“Who made you feel so self conscious about your tits? I’ll fucking end them with my bare hands.”

“Oi!” Jamie stood up, raising his hands and looking at the team. “Stop fuckin’ talkin’ about her tits, yeah?” Everyone mumbled in agreement as Jamie slowly sank back into the seat. “Fuckin’ innappropriate that is. Borderline sexual harassment, in my opinion.”

“And last, but certainly not least,” Coach Beard continued. “We have a long, floor length black dress, slit down the skirt, with a straight neckline and no straps.” 

“It’s too similar to the first one!” Sam pointed out, which the rest of them roared in disagreement.

“You just don’t understand fashion, Sam,” Colin said, ignoring Sam’s look of absolute disgust and shock towards the back of his head.

“But it’s better than the first one,” Richard pointed out. “The skirt slit makes it just-” He lifted his fingers to his mouth, kissing them before opening them again. “Chef’s kiss.”

“It has the elegance of the first one without being… aggressive with the redness,” Isaac remarked. 

They continued to debate passionately. You looked at Jamie, who, for the first time since you had ever known him, remained perfectly silent, just listening.

“What do you think?” You asked him, in a quiet voice so only he could hear you. He looked over in surprise, eyebrows to his hairline.

“Me? You want my opinion?” He asked. You shrugged.

“I’m getting everyone else's, may as well chime in,” You said. You decided not to tell him that as much as you loved the chorus of loud opinions coming from the rest of the room, the one you wanted most was his. He stared at you, searching your eyes, before turning and looking at the dresses. A few moments passed before inhaled deeply and spoke again.

“The black one.” It was so confident of an answer. “Number three.” 

“Why that one?” You asked, turning to look at it again. 

“The first one makes you look like you’re going to your ex husband’s weddin’ and you’re tryin’ to make a point. The second one looks like somethin’ you’d wear to the premiere of a children’s movie.” He looked at you again, his eyes going up and down your body, before turning back to the board. “The black one just feels like you. It’s simple, but still se- still nice.” He nodded in confirmation. The two of you met eyes again and he swallowed. “The black one is perfect.”

Not waiting another second, you stood up.

“I’ve made my decision.”

They all looked at you expectantly. You paused for dramatic affect, and the longer you waited, the more impatient they all got. It was a little exhilarating. 

“Number 3,” You declared. “I’m picking the black one.” 

The room erupted once more, a mix of enthusiasm and disappointment. Before it could get too chaotic, Jamie stood.

“It’s her fuckin’ choice, yeah?” He yelled. “Either be happy for her or keep your mouth fuckin’ shut.” Despite the aggression in his words, you could see the twinkle in his eye, and when he met your eye, he winked before smiling at you. 

It wasn’t until you went to sleep that night that the smile on your face faltered, but even in your sleep, there was still a slight whisper of one on your lips.

[urbanqhoul]

Did Whimsy and Angel have any other designs before the ones they have rn?

And were their personalities deferent in some ways or did you always have a clear idea of how they would be?

DESIGN LORE TIME OK SO long ramble click to peek~

originally when I was making whimsy I was making him specifically for this one video I made for fun with the audio from Disciplines- Captain Murphy cuz spoooooky n fun The first concept for whimsy's design was based on a forget me not flower (That idea got transferred to Angel) but I also wanted something resembling a biblically accurate angel to go with the religious theme of the audio buuut I also wanted a colorful kidcore character cuz they give me happy wiggles- so I combined the idea and thats how he became a flower head character who's petals are actually tucked in wings u3u Angel was made with the unused ideas for whimsy and in their original story (before i reworked it entirely with something more fleshed out- nothing from the original story is canon) Angel was sorta a literal angel parasite thing possessing Whimsy that eventually ripped out of him to be have his own body u3u hence why the original him had rainbow petals, it was kinda to resemble whimsy more since he was meant to be ripped from him.

Might make an au where they have their beta/concept relationship more cuz that'd be fun~ Once I noticed people really liked my bois I wanted to make a more proper/organized story so they got a complete overhaul personality/lore/story wise. Concept angel was a lot more malicious up to no good lil fucker Also with stuff that'll come up in the distant future backstory wise- all Rem dream tripper characters have symbolism to their lore in their design and that's also been reverse engineered for whimsy n angel~