#that had a windows equivalent that just worked out of the box

[ahh-fxck]

Also please remember that Linux is NOT ACTUALLY A SOLUTION for most individuals. The amount of programming knowledge it requires is prohibitive. For many folks the refusal to switch to Linux isn't a case of laziness, it is an issue of *accessibility.*

I talked about the problem of Windows system requirements being too damn high before, and how the windows 10 to 11 jump is especially bad. Like the end of Windows 10 is coming october 2025, and it will be a massive problem. And this article gives us some concrete numbers for how many computers that can't update from win10 to 11.

And it's 240 million. damn. “If these were all folded laptops, stacked one on top of another, they would make a pile 600 km taller than the moon.” the tech analysis company quoted in the article explains.

So many functioning computers that will be wasted. And it's all because people don't wanna switch to a Linux distro with sane system requirements and instead buy a new computer.

Like if you own one of these 240 million windows 10 computers, Just be an environmentally responsible non-wasteful person and switch that computer to Linux instead of just scrapping it because Microsoft says it's not good enough.

[biteyoubiteme]

mystery flavored

hueningkai x fem!reader

synopsis: kai lives across from you and has a perfect view of your bed.

warnings: 🔞!!! perv!kai, masturbation (m! and f!), slight fingering, no protection, creampie, prob forgot some

wc: 2.7k

an: so sorry this one took a while but I should be back on track now <33 not proofreading i’m so sorry lol feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober evert check out the other fics ! [dumdum m.list]

It started as a simple little crush. You had moved into the building next to his, and your friends were helping you with the boxes and furniture. Kai had been busy working on a deadline, his desk a mess with all his papers and books, his hand curled in his hair, trying to blink away the strain he had put on his eyes staring at his laptop for so long. It was late, and all your friends had gone home after helping, but you were in your room setting things up. 

He had made it a habit not to look into the window across from his, the previous tenants always leaving their blinds open. He never was nosey, not when he didn’t want anyone looking back. But his desk was pressed right against the windowsill, the short distance between your buildings giving the perfect view right across from him. 

He had hit submit on his paper closing his laptop leaving darkness pooling around him the only streak of light coming from your window. You were standing on a chair, arms lifted above you as you messed with the curtain rod. Your tank top had ridden up your stomach exposing your navel and waistband of your shorts. All that skin on display making him do a double take. 

He didn't think he would see you again like this after you put up your curtains but to his surprise, they weren’t the type to keep out light. The sheer lacy fabric still gives him the outline of your body. At least when you had them closed and you hardly ever made time to fuss over them after pushing them open a few months ago. 

He told himself he wouldn’t look. Ran the consequences over and over in his head if he was ever caught. But he always did his work so late, late enough for you to already be in bed, sometimes late enough to see you get home from staying out all night. 

It was that one night that changed it for him. He could see you sleepily fumbling to turn on your lamp, the golden light framing you as you tugged off your shirt and pushed down your jeans. You walked to your closet in only your underwear, your back to him as you slipped off your bra. 

You had pulled out an oversized t-shirt putting it on before climbing into bed and reaching over to turn the lamp off on your bedside table. He hadn’t seen more than the equivalent of a bikini at a beach but he couldn’t shake the image. It was the first time he touched himself to the thought of you. 

Every time after that he always told himself it was the last time, he would be at his desk with his laptop open but not on so you wouldn't see the light, and he would try so hard not to let his face give himself away just in case you ever looked over. His hair hanging in his eyes hiding his expression if he looked down, or at least that's what he told himself would keep him covered. 

In the beginning, he would always finish and think he was the worst, “never again,” he'd vow only to be called right back to that window. 

Then it progressed into more, both of you taking the same walk to campus and without even realizing it he knew your schedule better than his own. and when the new semester started he found that the two of you had one class together. Your seat is right in front of his. 

It was a big lecture hall but a small class so it was easy to notice how spread out everyone else was in the room. But this was the closest he had been without the windows between you two so he didn't want to miss the opportunity. Not that he was confident enough to speak to you in the first place but he was hoping you would need a pen or last week's notes, anything that the proximity would lead you to picking him to ask. 

He went home to his room feeling better than he had in a while, watching the way you came back later that day, tossing your bag near the foot of your desk, laptop pushed open as you took your seat. He was in darkness watching as you clicked open your assignments, flipping through the different tabs before he watched you sigh, closing your laptop altogether without doing anything you needed to. Instead, you push away from your desk before falling into your bed, arm thrown over your eyes to block out the light from your lamp. 

It isn't until a few minutes later that Kai notices the way you are rubbing your thighs together, the way your hand is slipping down into your pants. It’s not the first time he’s caught you like this, hips grinding into your palm, mouth open in a moan he wishes he could hear. The bed was in just the right spot for him to see everything as you pushed your pants down. 

He tried to tell himself not to but it wasn’t in his nature to resist this kind of temptation. He was so hard in his sweatpants that he was sure if he accidentally brushed his bulge it would be painful. Even when he was younger he’d never gotten hard this fast but with one glance in your direction with you on your bed he couldn’t help himself. 

Your legs were spreading just for him, the perfect view of this performance as you worked yourself. Kai was matching his pace to yours, picking up the rhythm with ease. And even if you couldn't hear him he tried to stay quiet, fighting back every moan, the struggle turning the sounds to desperate whimpers in the back of his throat. 

Knows it's hitting you by the way your body reacts, knees pulling in, back arching, mouth caught slightly open. He wants to keep watching but he has to press his face against his desk because there is no hiding his expression as he lets himself go. His cum dots his sweatshirt and hand as he gasps, the cold wood of his desk pressed to his heated cheek. When he sits back up he sees you lift your slick fingers to your mouth, cleaning them off exactly as he would. He's never craved something so much. 

But when he's back in class with you seated in front of him he can't focus. Mind wandering back to the night before, missing everything the professor was saying. It isn't until you turn your head catching him looking right at you that he's jolted back to reality. 

You can't help but smile watching the way his blush starts so suddenly. He's trying to look down at his paper, realizing he hasn't been taking notes this whole time, head snapping up to the board with the slide show already over. 

“Here,” you offer your notebook over to him, “we are partnering up for the next project so you can just give it to me next week,” 

“We are partnering up?” 

“You didn't hear our names called together?” 

“I-um- I kinda zoned out,” he confesses, trying to laugh it off but wanting to fall through the floor.  

“I get it, this wasn't too interesting a lecture,” you smile reaching over for his blank notebook, “here I'll write my number down so we can plan when we can meet up about getting this project done,” 

Only it isn't even two days later and you catch him on his walk home. Your hand on his arm makes him jump. “I'm sorry I thought you heard me calling you,” you laugh, “but I'm so glad I caught you because I actually need my notes back from the other day. I forgot I wrote the pages for the reading down in there,” 

“O-okay, they’re back at my place, I just finished with them last night,”  he's completely flustered after being caught off guard, trying not to look you in the eyes as if the second you looked you would know his secret. 

You're kind of surprised at how shy he is around you when you've seen him seem so open with his friends around campus. Now he's a stuttering flushed mess in front of you trying to keep one foot in front of the other not to trip and embarrass himself anymore. He leads you right up to his apartment, pushing open his door and apologizing for a mess that isn't there. 

He expects you to wait by the door while he goes to pick up your notebook from his desk but you follow right behind him. The space feels suffocating as the two of you stand in his room, the pile of plushies on his bed seeming so much bigger now that he's seeing it from your perspective. But it isn't the first thing that you notice.

The glow from the lamp you'd accidentally left on was cutting out a space on his desk, the light pooling on the finished wood like a confession he didn't want to spill. He doesn't even notice at first until you sigh, “damn I always forget to turn that one off,” 

You're looking at your room from this new perspective, the way your bed is angled just right to line up with the window. Kai is trying to swallow the lump in his throat, mouth opening and closing like he could say something that wouldn’t make him feel like he was caught. But it wasn’t like you didn't know.

You had seen him looking on that first night and although you knew you shouldn't like the way it made you feel it had the opposite effect. 

At first, it was a little cute the way he tried hard not to look in but as soon as the first time you noticed him masturbating to you it was hard not to purposefully toy with him. Having him in front of you now only made it all the better. “Be honest, have you ever looked over into my room?” you ask sitting on the edge of his bed. 

Kai doesn't know if he should lie, knows that if he tells the truth you would think about all the times the windows have been wide open while you changed or worse. But if he lies and you have seen him looking he doesn't know if he will ever recover. “You never- um- you don't-” 

“Close my curtains?” you tilt your head watching the way he's gripping your notebook, “I should do that huh? Especially when I have neighbors who like to watch when I touch myself,” 

Kai thinks his knees could actually be jelly at this point. “I- I can e-explain-” he's hot all over, trying to make up for the fact he's been watching you by not having his eyes meet yours. Not when you're on the bed because if he thinks about you in or on his bed he will be hard and it's not the time.

“It's okay, I don't think you really could explain it away,” you giggle leaning back on your hands, ”but you know what I'd like to see? I'd like it if you’d show me how you touch yourself when you watch me," 

His eyes snap over to you for the first time to really take you in. The way you seem so calm, legs crossed in front of you watching how he's shocked speechless. “It's only fair, you never do show in return,” 

Kai doesn't even know how he's found himself here now, with you in his bed with one of his plushies in your lap as he leans back on his desk chair and tries not to cum too quickly with your eyes on him. Every few seconds he has to pull his hand away from his cock edge himself before you're egging him on, “Keep going, I know you can last longer than that,” 

“I can't-” his hair falls into his eyes as he shakes his head, “I want-” he pulls his hand away, cock twitching against his stomach as he struggles for words. 

“You want what? Do you want to fuck me? Is that what you're saving yourself for?” you ask laying yourself back against his pillows and stuffies, knees spreading letting him see up your skirt. The wet spot on your panties mesmerizes him like he's never seen this sight before. “I don't know if you deserve it,” 

“I'm sorry, I'm-” he has to stop his slow pumps again, fingers just barely circling his tip but even that might be too much. 

Pushing your panties to the side you slide your fingers through your folds, his eyes trained on the movement, both of you whimpering as you play with your clit. Kai can't even think as he moves to the bed, needing to be closer to you. He lays next to you, veiny cock pressed to the outside of your thigh, grinding into your leg showing just how needy he is. 

“Did you think about me in your bed when you touched yourself? Or did you climb in with me in mine?” you reach for his hand bringing it down between your legs. “Did you imagine it was your hands on me instead of my own?” 

You guide his fingers over your clit, letting him take control when he presses his face into your shoulder, moaning at the feel of how warm and wet you are. 

His hips are matching the way he’s rubbing against your clit. It’s almost too much for him and when you ask, “Are you going to just play or are you going to fuck me?” he can’t take it anymore. 

Kai prods at your entrance pushing in two fingers knuckles deep. Your hips jerk up to meet his hand but he doesn’t let you, pulling out just to shove the same fingers into your mouth like he’s seen you doing so many times before. You're shocked by the taste of yourself for only the second it takes you to realize his intentions. 

He pushes you over to your side, cock bumping your ass before you feel him pushing between your thighs slipping along your cunt. Your muffled yelp is heard around his fingers as he pushes in, stretching you inch by inch. Your body relaxes into his, your head on his shoulder as he angels his hips to get as deep as he can in this position. 

“Oh god- you feel so fucking good,” hes panting into your shoulder, fingers swirling along your tongue. He's pressed right against your womb, your brows scrunched at the way he's splitting you, squeezing around him until he's stilling to try and not cum too fast. “I've dreamt about how good it would feel to be buried inside you,” You're whining on his fingers as he trusts them to match his cock slowly inching in and out of you. “I'd wait up just to see you when you got home, watch you undress,” he groans at the thought hips snapping forward. 

“Id think about- fuck,” he drops his hand from your mouth, fingers still wet with your saliva, and presses them to your clit. The stimulation has your head going foggy, “and I think about touching this pretty pussy just like this,” 

You can feel him losing his stamina, stuttering hips, and twitching cock making you lose your mind. “Did you think about filling me up with your cum?” 

The soft whimper he lets out is an echo of his need, rumbling in his chest as he presses onto your clit needing to feel you cum on his cock. It's almost too much and when you start to grind back on him he can't help himself as he cums, his pathetic ah-ahs a melody you didn't know you needed before you were clenching around him following right after him pressing your palm to your pelvis like that could stop the way your hips were twitching for him. 

When he pulled out you could feel your combined release slipping down your thighs his soft apologies waved away as you turned around tugging the back of his hair until his lips were on yours. “Next time you can come over to my place and play out exactly how you would have fucked me into my mattress,” 

🏷 taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 @tomorrowxforever r @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii i @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae @nessaassen02 @iluvhyukaa @mrsjohnnysuh @wand3rlustm3

[mellotunekitty]

Jason Todd x Gn!Reader - Sick Day

Summary: the day you’re supposed to work with Jason, you’re sick. After he hears this, he takes it upon himself to take care of you, going above and beyond what he really needs to.  

Contains: tooth rotting fluff, comfort, reader has a fever

----

You woke up with your head banging, your throat sore, and your nose clogged up. Great. You’re sick. Of course it had to be the same day you were going to meet up with Jason to talk about a closed case you both were thinking about reopening. Groaning in pain, you rolled over to grab your phone and called Jason. 

“Hello?” He picked up. “Jay, I don’t feel good. M’not coming over today,” you said, your words barely audible. But Jason knew you. He knew what you sounded like when you were sick. “I’ll be right there. Don’t move,” he said, hanging up. 

“Wha- Jason… Jason?” You realize he hung up and tossed your phone aside, groaning and laying back down in pain. Your muscles were sore and you just wanted to sleep without tossing and turning because your nose was clogged on one side, then the other, and back to the previous side. It didn’t take long before he broke into your apartment through your window. 

He slid the window up to let himself in, bringing a backpack in with him. “You got the floor all wet,” you whined, noticing how wet his boots were from the rain. He apologized softly and took his boots off, finding a towel to put under them. “Here, I brought you some stuff,” he said, uncharacteristically soft. He pulled out medicine and a box of tea. “Here, let me warm up some tea for you so you can take the medicine,” he said.

Jason returned, tea in hand. The medicine wasn't as bad as you thought. It did take some convincing on his part, but it worked eventually. He didn’t stop at tea and medicine, however. His backpack seemed to be the equivalent to Mary Poppins or Hermione Granger’s bag. Medicine, tea, thermometer, tissues, soups, and more. He had it all set just for you. 

In your sick state, you caught a fragment of him pulling out the thermometer to take your temperature. “Open… under the tongue, sweetheart, there ya go,” he whispered. “Ooh..” Jason hissed, “high fever. I’ll make you some soup. You need liquids and food.” 

“M’not hungry,” you managed to croak. He sighed softly, cupping your cheek. “I know, baby, but you gotta eat something,” he mumbled. “You won’t have to eat all of it. Just what you can.” So, you did. You ate as much soup as you could before blowing your nose like crazy, the medicine seemingly kicking in. 

You didn’t think he could take care of you more, but if there was one thing you knew about Jason, it was that he liked to outdo himself. So when you watched him grab your remote and put on your favorite shows to make you feel better, you weren’t so surprised. “Need anything else? Want anything?” He asked. “No,” you whispered. But you did.

You wanted cuddles. You wanted to be held and coddled. It always felt so nice when you were sick. Obviously, he saw right through you, it was Jason. “You’re lying,” he said gently, “what d’you need?” Your voice came out soft and rough, “...hold me?” 

His eyes softened and he looked down with a smile, nodding slightly. “Okay,” he whispered, walking over to your bed. He laid next to you and carefully scooped you up. Almost like he was treating you like glass. “Get some sleep, baby,” he whispered. “I’ll be here to take care of you when you wake up.” 

It was the happiest you’ve ever been while sick.

[crowttore]

Another day, another try - Dottore x reader

Note: self-indulgence is self-indulgent. A 'fuck it we ball' kind of fic. Not proofread. Context: upon turning 25 and being unmarried it is customary where I'm from to 'receive cinnamon' which can either involve being tied to a pole and doused in it or well, the more peaceful option. Tags: Dottore x reader, pure fluff, established relationship, birthday fic, 900 words Minors DNI

It was just another day.

The same frigid winds howling outside. The same ungodly hour that the alarm went off. The same heavy boots trudging up and down the corridors. The same gruelling tasks looming ahead.

It was just another day.

There was no trace of your lover, and you weren't entirely sure if the memory of him crawling beneath the covers were from last night or weeks ago. Lazily running a hand along Dottore's side of the mattress to feel for any lingering heat told you little. Pockets of warmth rarely lasted long here.

You'd see him once you made it to the labs - maybe bring a cup of coffee if he had indeed worked through the night. Changing into your usual uniform was swift, movements practised and polished to minimise exposure time of your skin to the cold.

It was a workday. It was just another day. Dressing up would be an inconvenience - no one would think you looked wrong or tell you to go change out of your uniform, the lurking dread was unfounded.

When the closet snapped shut it startled some part of your brain awake, awareness crashing over you. Something was different.

A faint trace of spice lingered near the closed door (didn't Dottore usually leave it open?) leading to the living room. Not the usual spice that seemed to be so fully ingrained in Dottore's skin that no attempt at erasing Zandik could purge it. No, this was sweeter, warm all the same, but alluring in a different way.

As you advanced, hushed voices and hurried steps carried through the dark oak, making your breath hitch as a surge of panic went down your spine. Logic was all that drove your hand forward through the mist of dread, grasping the doorhandle with the same conviction as the reassurances that your childhood had been laid to rest.

What met your eyes on the other side was...

Not exactly an everyday occurence, but familiar all the same.

The small huff you struggled to contain had several heads turning and all manner of garnet eyes and equivalents aimed at you, expressions ranging from frustrated to disappointed to somewhat smug.

In the midst of carefully controlled (probably not) chaos, was Dottore. His back straight and a scowl on his face as he tried to get the attention of his segments once more, no doubt too busy putting them to work to have noticed your presence.

Two younger segments were attempting to put up 'decorations', one sitting on the shoulders of the other (both of them completely ignoring the stepladder you had tucked into a corner for reaching the top shelves). Hushed strings of colourful curses filled spilled from Beta's lips, most of them condemning the fact that he was stuck carrying Iota.

A few others had been busy wrapping a few boxes up in colourful fabric, scrambling to cover up what you assumed to be presents the moment you entered.

But what truly caught your attention were the copious amounts of smoke rising from the kitchenette and Omega's ornaments clinking together as he and another segment were busy trying to get it out the window.

Dottore tensed briefly as your hands slid around his waist, the feeling of his subdued chuckle sending a pleasant tingle through you.

"Thought I specifically said I didn't like celebrations.." your words were hushed, not wanting to disturb the relative peace as all the segments had returned to their tasks.

"No," Dottore corrected, turning to face you, "you expressed a disdain for how your family would celebrate you."

Despite the slight annoyance, you couldn't help but smile as he wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You're family too," you teased, feeling the familiar heat of his presence wash over you.

A click of his tongue had you peering up just in time to see how he rolled his eyes, "Don't get smart with me, chosen family is an entirely different matter."

You caught the scent of cinnamon lingering on his shirt, keenly aware of your growing hunger, "if not today, when else would I get away with smart-mouthing?"

Dottore merely scoffed, shooting a glare towards a clearly amused Omega, "As long as you don't make it a habit, darling. Now, go sit," he gently pushed you towards the table as one of the younger segments eagerly set out plates and lit the candles.

"Weren't you supposed to be in a meeting with Pierro?" You glanced over your shoulder, eyes widening as Dottore brought over a tray of (slightly burned) cinnamon rolls as well as fresh fruits.

"I was," he conceded, "but I sent Omega in my stead."

Before you could ask, the segment supplied an answer in his usual purring voice, "And I sent an agent to tell The Jester we had things of greater importance to take care of today."

Your lover's annoyance was thinly veiled as all the segments snickered, various comments along the lines of 'such as pampering our dearly beloved on their birthday' being added by them, the terms of endearment swiftly spiralling out of hand as they tried to outdo each other.

Today wasn't just another day. At least not entirely. But you found that you didn't really mind.

[indigochromatic]

Some Basic Advice About EMDR for Systems

(drawing on our own experiences, reading about it, and comparing notes with our therapist)

This is mainly aimed at systems who are considering doing EMDR or planning on it, but want to know what the process is like and what to look out for, with some personal experiences sprinkled in.

Under the cut, because I talk a lot:

General Concept

I think the big picture in our experience is that EMDR is/was like…an intensifier for the kind of headspace/internal system interaction processing work that a lot of systems do naturally, at least a little, especially if they have decent internal communication. This has both upsides and downsides/areas to be cautious about.

A lot of EMDR pre-work (often called “resourcing”) is about making sure you have a good toolbox of “mental tricks/techniques” to be able to handle unexpected intense emotions, feelings, and/or imagery etc that often comes up when you get into trying to work with traumatic stuff. This is in my opinion very important, and something your therapist should take at least a few sessions to talk with you about even if you already have good tools for it already, just to make sure they know your strategies and you’re all on the same page. Also super common and normal to spend some time developing extra ones if needed—stuff like “the box” for temporarily containing crisis emotions when needed, having a mental “safe space” that you can come back to, etc. Also, EMDR specifically tends to often be a little rigid/scripted in the types of visualizations and metaphors you’re “supposed” to use, but in my opinion a good therapist should be flexible enough to adapt to equivalent images/techniques you may already have (like, “imagine you’re viewing the traumatic memory on a movie screen, or out the window of a train going through a tunnel” is a common instruction; if, say, your headspace has a lot of fantasy elements and it makes more internal sense to be viewing the memory via…scrying in a dish or something, your therapist should be down with you doing that instead, if you want to).

As for the sessions themselves, a big thing we don’t hear articulated a lot is that, in our experience  and that of some other folks we know, EMDR has a tendency of being…like, sneakily intense: It doesn’t necessarily hit you all at once in the session, which may just feel like “ok, that was Some Therapy Work but I’m chill”, but then over the rest of the day and maybe even the next few days, it’s not uncommon to keep feeling a lot of emotional intensity/vulnerability, having more intense “internal conversations and/or realizations”, etc. For this reason, EMDR is generally supposed to start with a very mild memory-to-process, like 4-5 out of 10 max.

Notes of Caution and Stuff to Keep In Mind

Especially for folks who already heavily dissociate from emotional trauma, it’s super easy to think you’re “going too easy” only to find that the memory has a lot more emotional baggage than you realized—really go easy on yourself when you start, EMDR is like psychology power tools and you absolutely can hurt yourself. (We’ve heard from plenty of systems who had bad therapists who did not adequately support them in doing EMDR, and absolutely fucked them over by starting too big and retraumatizing the hell out of them— this isn’t meant as fear-mongering, especially if you really like and trust your therapist, but just genuine “hey, EMDR can be very volatile stuff, which is part of why it can be so helpful, but also means that it’s important to not skip out on the safety precautions and self-care”.) What this means in practice is often stuff like: (our recommendations at least) - trying to schedule breaks/easy days immediately after - possibly getting someone to drive you home, especially if you know you’re going after a Big Thing, because the dissociation hangover immediately after can be pretty real - start with a memory that feels "too easy", and scale up if a week later it still felt trivial/like you’re fully over it, because it’s way easier to ramp up than try to do damage control.

Our personal experience, in tl:dr form, was that it felt like the core of the technique was really useful for us, and mirrored some of the most useful instances of self-processing we’d had before while also kind of serving as a “shortcut” to it—but, it was pretty intense and we didn’t really like/fit well with the therapists who we were working with at the time, which is why we stopped (didn’t want to keep doing an emotionally intense thing with folks we didn’t trust).

Finally, a bit about EMDR and "maybe I'm plural but I'm not sure, and/or may not have great in-system communication": yeah, this is a case to be especially slow and careful, for all the aforementioned reasons; what my instinct/recommendation would be in those cases is to: 1) make sure you learn a lot of resourcing techniques 2) try to check in with yourself(s) frequently and with compassion/intent-to-collaborate, "ask the inside of your head how it's feeling" and even if you're not sure whether the "reply" was just your own thoughts or a headmate, listen and try to engage with/respect those responses and emotions 3) if you start getting warning signs/back-off signals/sudden intense feelings, listen to them and lighten up, pause the session if you need to, do some self care etc, even (especially) if you don't know why you felt that way and it seems 'odd/random', and really you're super curious about what's going on and just want to figure it out. Like...you and the inside of your head and/or other system members are trying to navigate a complicated D&D maze together, in the dark, and you each only have part of the map--so you have to work together and trust each other, especially listening to warning signals even when your "part of the map" doesn't show anything to worry about there. And the more you work together and trust each other, the better everything gets, including therapy work.

When it's "Death By A Thousand Papercuts"-type Trauma Instead

If you're not sure where to start because there aren't a lot of obvious "Big Bad Memories" that feel like they adequately explain the issues you're having, some recommendations:

-> First, note that "no Big Bad Memories are immediately coming to mind, idk" is super common in systems and also in CPTSD, way more than I think most folks realize, so know that you're not alone and also that it doesn't mean you don't necessarily have stuff deserving of help and support.

-> So yeah, there's kinda two things imo you can try. The first is, if your therapist is on the more flexible side, you can try doing EMDR with either "this specific memory wasn't too bad, but it's representative of an ongoing pattern or theme that wasn't great" (say, loneliness at school or something, and you pick a specific lunchtime memory, which wasn't really That Bad in the moment, but you were kinda sad and/or upset about it and it feels representative of the overall trend you're trying to process/heal). Or you can try just doing the EMDR process on the theme itself, at the abstract level, and see what comes up--again, I'd really recommend starting with a much lower-stakes issue/theme than you think you need, just because it's really easy to underestimate, especially for systems and other folks whose brains dissociate a lot. (And especially if you know your system has episodic amnesia--e.g. event-amnesia/blackout amnesia--as well as emotional amnesia.)

The second is, there are other "more flexible" types of similar somatic therapy techniques (brainspotting is the name of another one, and there's more I can't think of rn) that might fit better instead-- tldr, totally worth asking your therapist about the whole situation, and asking what they'd feel most qualified for/comfortable with, in my opinion. You don't need to be doing Specifically Exactly EMDR to do somatic trauma therapy, even though EMDR is one of the more well-known modalities for it, and finding a version that feels right and not like you're forcing anything is really valuable (and you're not 'being picky' if it takes a while to find one; you're allowed to want to find one that feels right).

[starling-song]

(photo: lyrics as printed in the vinyl edition of I Am Mortal)

ギニョル // Guignol

Lyrics: Sakurai Atsushi | Music: Miyo Ken

Un. Deux. . Un. Deux. Trois Celluloid Onnn…one foot A slow and pirouetting music box let’s…dance

Lean back beside the window let’s fall in love Your eyes roll back The moon is turning inside-out^

Why is it…I… don’t understand Love Neither tears nor blood can flow It isn’t…working

Roll up your dress let’s make love My eyes are a desiccating jelly` Lapsing into darkness

Who aaare you Teach me love Hollow eyes Glass jewels Who aaam I Make me dance on Let me dream And also be cut to thousands lullaby I had forgotten completely Grand Guignol Theatre

Un, Deux, Trois, Let us dance Halt time Un, Deux, Trois, Let us dance The same as that day Un, Deux, Trois, Let us dance Stop, O time Un, Deux, Trois, Let us dance Just like that day On one foot…well…

Roll up your dress let’s make love My eyes are a desiccating jelly` Lapsing into darkness

Who aaare you Teach me love Hollow eyes Glass jewels Who aaam I Make me dance on Let me dream And also be cut to thousands

Teach me love Give me a kiss Make me dance on Unto forever lullaby I had forgotten completely Grand Guignol Theatre Well, that concludes it

Finit

——————————————————

Un. Deux . . Un. Deux. Trois SERUROIDO Kataaa . . ashi de Yukkuri to mawaru ORUGORRU Odori . . masho

Madobe ni motare koi wo shiyou Kimi no hitomi ga gururi Tsuki wa uragaeru yo^

Doushite Ai wo shiranai Wata . . shi wa Namida mo chi mo nagarenai Koware . . teiru

DORESU wo makuri ai wo shiyou Boku no hitomi wa dorori` Yami ni ochiteyuku yo

Anata wa daare Ai wo oshiete Utsuro na hitomi GARASU dama Watashi wa daare Odoraseteite Yume wo misasete Chigirete mo lullaby wasuresarareta GURAN • GINYORU Oshibai

Un, Deux, Trois, Odorou Toki wo tomete Un, Deux, Trois, Odorou Ano hi no mama Un, Deux, Trois, Odorou Toki yo tomare Un, Deux, Trois, Odorou Ano hi no you ni Kata-ashi de . . saa

DORESU wo makuri ai wo shiyou Boku no hitomi wa dorori` Yami ni ochiteyuku yo

Anata wa daare Ai wo oshiete Utsuro na hitomi GARASU dama Watashi wa daare Odoraseteite Yume wo misasete Chigirete mo

Ai wo oshiete Kuchizuke wo shite Odoraseteite Itsumademo lullaby wasuresarareta GURAN • GINYORU Oshibai Oshimai da ne

Oshimai sa

--------------

^ The verb in the second half of this line is a doozy and can mean at least three very vivid, different things- to turn inside out, to defect to a different side/team (aka betrayal), and to give a high pitched cracking voice like a broken falsetto. After spending quite a bit of time on it I sold out and went with the most common usage of the word, but knowing Atsushi he could have very well meant all three. I hope this better colors the understanding of this line (especially considering the context).

` The word "dorori" doesn't have a great english equivalent. It is essentially an onomatopoeia that means something disgustingly sticky and gooey, like sticking your hand in the mystery bowl when you're blindfolded at halloween and someone tells you you're touching guts or eyeballs or brains or something. Because of this I decided to insert 'desiccated' because the vibe is weird enough here to suggest he may well be dead, freshly dead, or half dead, etc. Atsushi is taking a seductive, sexy moment, drawing you in, and then pulling away the curtain to show you you've been lusting over a 4h old corpse.

T/N: Going off the beaten path tonight to do this song from Atsushi's last side project, The Mortal. Atsushi has taken advantage of some unique Japanese character stylizations that don't translate terribly well but that I have tried to preserve and reflect in different ways with italics. It felt like skipping ahead in the textbook doing this one, so I'll probably come back to it whenever I reach this album. This song sees Atsushi using a poetic device I've not seen since 'Chiisana mori no hito' which is the poetic 'yo'. This 'yo' functions rather like the Elizabethan english emphatic 'O', such as 'O Time! O Sea!' that sort of thing. The spacing of the lines is also interesting- some given space, others smushed together (so if they seem that way in places it's because they are). Like slowly unraveling thoughts that someone is still trying to hold together but not doing a very good job of it. But let's talk about the title and where we're at in this song....

Welcome to Le Théâtre du Grand-Guignol- a very real theatre spectacle that saw its heyday from the late 1890s until WW1. At the Grand Guignol, guests were treated to short form extreme special-effects horror that specialized in the worst possible thing that could possibly happen to you in real life- grusome rapes, petty murders, rebelling psychiatric patients who kill everyone, slashers, revenges, disfigurement, you name it. It was said to be so graphically depicted on stage and the special effects so realistic that people would vomit, scream, cry, faint, and run from the performances. It was also, apparently, such a turn-on that the theatre kept special box rooms containing small windows beneath the stage that patrons could rent to rent to jack off in or have sex during the performances. Apparently folks got so worked up in said boxes that the performers would sometimes break character to stomp on the floor and tell them to keep it down.

And this, friends, is the world Atsushi has decided to take us to in this song. The line, however, it seems is rather blurred. You begin as a guest watching the 13th Floor With Diana-esque stage show, while also fucking in one of the sex boxes beneath the stage. But something is...not quite right. Your beau seems off.....almost dead- either physically or spiritually (or even both)....suddenly, you are part of the horror play yourself. Suddenly you are the performance. The spectacle of the play, the sex, the over-stimulation, the gory horror shocking everyone there, how can anyone feel anything after all this? Who are we- do we even know each other, in this box? Is it just an anonymous fling? "Teach me love". The viscous eyes staring sightlessly back at you as you fuck. The bloody debauchery concludes. The curtain falls. Oshimai sa. NEXT.

What a charming date night.

EDIT: After reading an interview Atsushi did for this album, it seems he merged the earlier concept of the Guignol (a puppet show archetype) with the later one (ie the theatre), which explains a lot more about what exactly is instinctively wrong about our beau in this song. So *originally* Guignol was a french marionette stock character, much like punch and judy are, who was generally a poor guy who did menial labor but was extremely honorable and always came out on top. So while his job and role and relationships to other stock characters might change from puppet show to puppet show, this was the core basis of him. Atsushi, in this interview, initially stated when asked about this song that it was about "how to make a feelingless doll feel" (so, focusing more on the puppet angle than the stock character itself) but neatly dodged the next question about the Grand Guignol Theatre references with simply "I like that sort of thing lol" which....sir....😂 So I think we may say that that our beau in this song is off because he's a fabricated person (atsushi apparently calls him a doll but let's be real here- considering what's going on in this song that is a stretch of a label at best)- perhaps crafted from the celluloid mentioned at the start, but also, judging by the eyes, organic matter. And this is the Grand Guignol Theatre after all- if this was some sort of frankenstein creation, passable enough as human in the dimly lit shadows of a candlelit theatre house at, say, midnight, but a bit of a gruesome horror up close or if you made the mistake of looking at him a little too long...well, the gross jelly eyes get the idea across well enough. This creature has happened upon the theatre looking to learn about human emotion, and the theatre's antics disguise him perfectly until the horror of him unfolds and the sex box encounter becomes another gory performance piece in and of itself. Atsushi really seems to have gotten to dump all his most favorite toys into the sandbox for this one- insatiable yearning, broken emotions, seduction, sex, slow horror, uncomfortably familiar shock- and a shameful desire to want to do it all over again. He really was in his element with this song. It's definitely become one of my favorites.

--------------

Disclaimers: Please do not use my translations, commentary, or photos without express permission. All photos of lyrics are mine- these are from my own collection, even if potato quality.💗

v. 1.2 (5.19.25)

[bogwaterparasite]

Could you please do 2004 Tord x reader, pls? He's my comfort character x(

(btw, pls make him as an adult if ur comfy with that! The TeenTord headcanon makes me uncomfortable x(

(not forced!)

Hello why of course!! I’m gonna be completely honest, last I watched Eddsworld was back in 2014?? So my interpretation might not be the best 🙏🙏 either way I hope you enjoy!!!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Pairing : 2004Tord x Reader

CW : none

Wc : 639 (wow so short)

A/N : I actually quite enjoyed this one? Im writing this at night and I didn’t have much of an idea of what else to do/ where to take it, but lowkey I can see it possibly becoming an actual story rather than a one shot. Who knows, maybe if I’m feeling inspired I’ll make it into a series

Sypnosis : You’re a mechanic working late one night when someone bursts into your workshop

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the cluttered garage. It was well past midnight, one of those rare moments when the world seemed to pause, allowing you a precious slice of personal time. Your own projects—the ones that never made it to the top of the priority list—were finally getting some attention.

Being a mechanic wasn't just a job; it was a calling. Each day brought a wild mixture of characters: stubborn old men who looked at you with skeptical eyes, convinced that youth equated to incompetence; entitled customers who argued over every dollar; self-proclaimed experts who believed YouTube tutorials made them equivalent to professional technicians. You'd seen it all—or so you thought.

The sudden crash of the workshop door made you jump, your wrench clattering against the concrete floor. A lanky figure burst in, light brown hair slightly disheveled, eyes wild with an intensity that immediately set your internal alarms ringing. Your gaze shifted towards the window, the LED sign with the words “Open” was shut off.. there was no way he actually thought the shop was open.

Before you even had the chance to protest, to tell him that right now you weren’t under working hours, blueprints exploded across your workspace like a paper hurricane, accompanied by several heavy metal boxes that looked like they'd been "borrowed" from somewhere decidedly official. Immediately, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, who the hell was this lunatic?

You didn’t have much time to question his theatrics as he soon began to explain his plan. Something about a robot.. approximately 10 meters tall? Looking down at the prints on your desk you weren’t able to tell if this was just some geeky fascination or something that you should genuinely be worried about. Regardless, it was something way out of your budget and league. Despite your interest and knowledge on cars, you weren’t so sure it applied to.. this..

"Look man, I dunno…" you started, your voice wavering between professional skepticism and genuine confusion. "I'm a mechanic, not a manufacturer. A twenty- thirty.. something foot robot? That's way beyond the standard automotive repair."

The stranger—dressed in a vibrant red hoodie that seemed almost too casual for the plans now scattered before you—let out a low chuckle. It was the kind of laugh that suggested he knew exactly how ridiculous this all seemed, and yet, didn't seem to care one bit.

"Not asking for mass production," he said, his accent carrying a hint of something Nordic—Norwegian, maybe? "Just one. Perfect prototype. Think of it as... a special order." His hands remained casually stuffed in his hoodie pockets, but there was nothing casual about the calculation behind his eyes.

The blueprints were meticulously detailed. Intricate mechanical designs intertwined with what looked like weaponry specifications. It was.. almost scary, how someone as simple as he looked was able to acquire such things, ones of such magnitude to say the least. This wasn't just a robot; this was something more. Something potentially dangerous.

"Split the profits," he continued, watching you carefully. "Fifty-fifty. All I need is your technical expertise and this workspace for a few weeks."

Something told you this was more than a simple business proposition. The boxes of materials, the precise blueprints, the way he'd so easily found his way into a private workshop, everything screamed of a deeper, more complex story.

And yet, a part of you was intrigued. Curiosity had always been your weakness, and this stranger had just presented a puzzle too compelling to dismiss.

"Who are you?" you found yourself asking, knowing the answer would likely raise more questions than it would resolve.

The smile that crossed his face was equal parts charming and dangerous—the smile of someone who knew exactly how this conversation would end, even if you didn't.

“My name is Tord, What about you, Stranger?”

[raccoonfallsharder]

✩࿐࿔ stop frickin' apologizing. [new 4/9]

✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist | take what you need queue fanfiction masterlist | navigation

fluff | gn reader | no use of y/n | anthology one-shot | word count: 1,207. read ✩࿐࿔ stop frickin' apologizing on ao3

hey, kid. for many of us, the impulse to apologize is conditioned so deeply into our subconscious that we don't even realize how often we do it until someone says, oh my god. stop apologizing. (which often makes us... well, apologize again.) luckily, the captain is here to offer his patient counsel and support. lol.

for @raccoon-coded ~ babe. i had a hard time writing this one, probably because i identify with both reader and here. (watch me barely holding back the impulse to apologize right here.) i am both the over-apologizer and the person who tells other people not to apologize (which does not work lol). i really hope this is still able to provide some comfort or validation for you. i will work on apologizing less if you do too, and maybe together we'll feel free to just exist without having to be sorry about it.

When Xlomo Smeth trips on the bone-pavement and bumps into the Captain — who in turn bumps into you — the words find their way out of your mouth before you even realize you’re saying them: an impulse as natural as drawing breath. “Oh! Sorry.” You don’t even notice Rocket stilling and stiffening in the street — not until you’ve already left him five paces behind. You stumble to a halt and turn, only to find him gazing up at you: eyes burning, arms crossed, tail and whiskers twitching. “Would you fuckin' knock that off?” You blink. “Excuse me?” Xlomo Smeth has already ducked into the laundromat where he’s been headed with a basket of his clothes. Other than the two of you, there are only a few people out and about right now in the early wake-shift hours. The Broker is sitting at a table across the street, daintily sipping something that you assume is the intergalactic equivalent of espresso. Sssaralami is leaning out of her window, hanging wet laundry to dry. Hoobtoe and a few of the Star Children are watering some plants in a series of box-gardens set up in a nearby alley, and Drax is lounging in a doorway: keeping a casual eye on them while he rips grilled orloni off a stick with his teeth. The streets are quiet, and the manufactured morning light is pearlescent and misty. “Apologizin�� so much,” the Captain growls at you.

read more on ao3 ✩࿐࿔ for @raccoon-coded ♡ ✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist | take what you need queue

need more reminders from rocket?

the world is hard, and sometimes it's difficult to complete daily tasks & take care of yourself (aka rocket bullies you for your own damn good).

feel free to ✩ request reminders ✩ via reblogs, asks, and tumblr or ao3 comments if they would be helpful for you. it may take me a hot minute to get to them depending on life n stuff, but i will do my best. ♡ view the take what you need queue to see upcoming installations & the current backlog.

this is about as wholesome as it gets (for me) i think. can be read platonically or romantically. mcu-based anthology, meant to take place post-volume-3, but headcanon however you want ♡

✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist

eat somethin. (wc: 576)

go to frickin bed already. (wc: 737)

get outta bed & get your shit done.(wc: 925)

take a damn bath. (wc: 1,375)

leave your frickin skin alone. (wc: 1,579)

take a fuckin study break.(wc: 1,020)

drink some goddamn water. (wc: 1,209)

stop destroying your frickin clothes. (wc: 1,609)

just buy the damn thing already. (wc: 1,271)

it's frickin laundry day. (wc: 1,923)

get some sunshine, sunshine. (wc: 1,614)

did you take your damn meds today? (wc: 1,288)

schedule your fuckin' appointments.(wc: 1,222)

do your goddamn dishes. (wc: 994)

brush your frickin' teeth. (wc: 1,774)

nobody fuckin hates you (wc: 1,231)

stop biting your goddamn nails (wc: 2,920)

take a frickin' shower (wc: 1,359 )

take care of your fuckin injury (wc: 2,102)

cook some goddamn food. (wc: 2,707)

clean your frickin room. (wc: 2,465)

stop hittin shit. (wc: 1,862)

do your frickin homework. (wc: 2,121 )

chill the fuck out. (wc: 1,499)

i'm damn proud a' you, kid. (wc: 1,639)

fuck heartache. (wc: 1,781)

stop frickin' apologizing. (wc: 1,207)

if you find any of these at all helpful, they're meant for you.

teacup and teal line dividers by @/saradika-graphics | support banner by @/saradika-graphics | raccoon divider by @/thecutestgrotto. total wordcount: 42,041.

[unjustgalaxy]

OH YEAH ALSO CAN YOU TELL ME EVERYTHING ABOUT YOUR UNDERTALE WONDERLUST AU :0???

ARGH I MEAN I DONT HAVE MUCH?? I HAVENT HAD TIME TO THINK ABT IT😭😭

but um ill write something down under a read more sure👍👍

its definitely tougher now since they went to the SURFACE already, but i bet i could work with it.

i know Troy functions as sort of the protagonist which jesus christ. unlucky. mans definitely NOT getting a pacifist ending now!! (points over at him, covered in blood and gore)

the thing abt ut au is that Troy and Frisk go through a pretty similar thing at the beginning if u think abt it!!

He fell down a big pit (flowers didnt break his fall, but trash is good enough), he then met SOME sort of villain of the story because he got kidnapped (also in pitch darkness, like Flowey was + u can equal being tied to a chair to being trapped in a small box surrounded by bullets) AND he met someone who functions as a tutorial for this new world hes entered (although Blink is way more unwilling than Toriel is😭😭)

i feel like if this was in game form, Blink would start off more like.. you know undertale yellow? Dalv is there, the vampire guy, and he spends like all the ruins Running Away from you before you meet him at the very end. I imagine it would be more like that, but he'd actually teach you stuff the few times you meet him. I'll figure out the logistics!!

Aeon is definitely like the Undyne equivalent. Because she's definitely after them, very scary and angry, but she's actually chill as hell (atleast i'm HOPING Aeon pls be my friend please)

Idk how exactly Ripley and The Inventor will work in this sort of?? situation? OR the Overseer

Like the Overseer was definitely built up as this huge threat - an Asgore level threat - but i'm unsure if he is?? I just have to wait for more wonderlust to come out😭😭

Oh!! And like, regions wise

For sure Reclaim is the beginning area, maybe with like a turn u can take, or you can fall further down into the Trench maybe? And Oasis Flora could be chill like Waterfall is

I certainly don't need to plan all of this so logistically, and should think about it more lore wise, but this helps with making art for it i think

OH and Troy, Runt and Blink definitely team up. Which is more Deltarune like, especially since Troy KEEPS wanting to kill people and they keep having to stop him

BUT ANYWAY THESE ARE VERY SCATTERED AS YOU CAN TELL. I wanna have more info before I actually start like, piecing it together into a whole thing in my head. Because I don't know how many more times they'll go to the surface and if i can somehow change that or implement it so it makes sense lore wise

Last minute thought: The Inventor is Gaster. imagine

and in an ideal world Cogsworth is Mettaton

But i know i wanna make more like pixel art for it bc its fun!! i only made one battle sprite but i wanna make one for like Blink too...

THANKS FOR GETTING ME TO THINK ABT IT I NEED TO LOCK IN AGAIN

oh and also ur tma au rlly intrigues me and i WISH i could read more abt it if only i wasnt fucking terrified of tma OR knew anything abt pd😭😭 the only things i know r through my brother and i did like. bare minimum research into "which fears fit which of the riptide guys" like years ago BUT JUST SO U KNOW I THINK ITS COOL IM CHEERING BUT LIKE THROUGH A WINDOW

i keep making too many aus. undertale? tma fear entities years ago? homestuck au thats entirely unfinished? can i chill?

[sugarmountainspring]

April 15.

6:30 : I woke up. Liv was having bad dreams. I had 2 coffees and got dressed while consoling her. I didn't wanna go to work. I grabbed leftover dinner from the fridge, switched my insoles from my rubber adidas to my cheap jordan work shoes, grabbed my backpack and tool bag and went out to my car.

8:00 : I showed up at the office. Its liv's exam week so she doesnt need a lift to school cause theyre all online. I'm always early. Today my drive took me about 10 minutes. I left late and everything. Mondays I go to the office, most other days I just show up where I'm needed. B***** the office lady is taking some time off (I guess), and as usual I show up before the boss. I clock in and clean some old cardboard and garbage from the warehouse. I have a chat with L***, the architect. He tells me about some DJ software he uses and tells me he ran a DJ company for weddings and graduation parties for 26 years. Every time we chat he always reveals something cool like that. After a bit I go out to the front room of the office and hang out with Z**, S*** and N*****. J**** is late, as usual. After a while chatting like that, I check my phone and realize I had a call from my dad (who is also my manager). He says there's a couple of things to do around some properties out in A**********. I like those properties cause nobody is really out there except for R****, the super of the property. He's nice enough but he always talks about stupid shit and doesn't listen back. That's one thing, he's old so I kinda expect that. But if he catches you out by his properties he'll give you all kinds of work that's his responsibility but he doesn't want to do. Luckily, I avoid him as I pull into Building A.

10:00 : Unit 302 has some pretty bad water damage. I throw on the new Super Eyepatch Wolf video to listen to while I work. Above the window is a huge sheet of drywall, heavy, warped, and half fallen out of place. I start by trying to slice it up. I saw and saw and saw with my utility knife. I make a cut about 2 inches into the sheet. No dice. I decide hitting chunks off with my hammer would probably work better. I give it a hard whack and make nothing more than a small dent. Awesome. It looks like the repeated wetting and drying have turned the naturally flaky, wafery drywall to what is equivalent to a solid piece of cement. At this point, my grade 11 and 12 auto shop teacher's words ring in my head. "There are surgeons, and there are butchers. You should aim to be a surgeon, but butchers exist for a reason." I start tearing down the sheet with my hands, careful not to disturb the L-bracket that holds the bad piece of drywall to good ones around the window. From the ceiling falls several dead wasp nests and what appears to be a birds nest. No critters in there. Lucky me. I pack up the debris I've made and toss it in one of the garbage bins around the property.

11:30 : this is why I like a********** properties. Nobody ever does anything around here. At the end of my last little bit of work, I cleaned up the hole I made with my knife. With that solid drywall, my blade broke off like I was trying to carve the hole out of a lemon wafer stick. I just spent the last 20 minutes fucking around, trying to find a new blade. Nobody breathing down my neck or telling me to get back to work. It's kinda nice. Once that's done, I remember I was told to help out cleaning up the properties. Normally what that entails is moving garbage people are too lazy to throw in the garbage bin from the side of the bin to the inside of the bin. At the main hub I go to at this property, the bins are overflowing with junk and there are 4 twin sized box springs, 2 couches and several bags of garbage to the side. Hm. Down the line of houses and apartment buildings on the street, lots of bins that are much emptier. Guess I'm doing some hauling.

11:54 : I've scoped out some empty bins, and I've thrown some couches and shelves into them. I never ate breakfast, so I eat lunch. Today, I will be eating leftovers, a luxury I don't normally have. Normally, I'd eat at Wendy's, A&W, or grab something from the hotplate at the Foodland around the corner. But today I'm eating the Thai chili chicken on fluffy jasmine rice I made yesterday. Saving money never tasted sooooo good. At this point I'm listening to a video from one of my favourite channels, ANIKI, about the history of the yakuza from the 17th century to today. I grab a seat in my car, roll the windows down a crack because it's getting hot out (finally) and chow down.

12:05 : I finish lunch. During lunch, I think about how my car really needs an oil change, and how sometimes the "check coolant" light pops on. With the weather changing, I understand the latter and that doesn't worry me. The former? A little more pressing. There's one mechanic I trust in town. It's hours are the exact same as my work hours. I use my car for work so I can't just drop it off and pick it up at the end of the day. And one of those "half hour oil and tire change" places? Forget it. My mom got one of those a month ago and she's had nothing but trouble with her car since, from them explaining she needs a new fly wheel which she didn't pay for, to a transmission fluid flush that she did pay for, which immediately sprang a leak, stopped working, and needed to be repaired at the garage I trust that I mentioned earlier. I can change oil no problem, I just don't know where to dispose of the old oil. Maybe I should just lean into being scummy and throw it in the lake or just let it drain into some Tupperware and throw them into public trash cans. Much to consider. Much to stress over, more like. But for now, I'm back to slugging around old dirty wet couches and beds. I would ask myself why I don't get a desk job doing data entry and sending emails, but I know I'd be just as whiny and complainy there as I am here. At least here I get some exercise and some sun and a decent wage. My town isn't exactly a hub for business, but this is where I live so I take what gets doled out to me. There's a real meth problem in my city. Everywhere you go, you see people pushing shopping carts full of jumper cables, old shoes missing matches, and pounds upon pounds of sweets, eyes bugged out of their heads, screaming at people, twitching and itching all over. I've been having a nagging thought over the past couple of months that, while that seems less than optimal, I'm kinda at my breaking point. Should I just give up on regular society and run with that society? Or should I finally do what I've been thinking about since I was 15 and just kill myself. I know everyone says life gets better as you get older but I found that hard to believe back then, and I still do today. For now, I haul garbage.

2:49 : moved around as much junk as I could. There's still a couple of couches and a huge mattress by one of the bins but they don't fit in my car and the next empty bin to the one they're next to is about a kilometer away. I still have an hour left at work today so I may drag them over. I may not. Who's to say. I may just hang out. That's the beauty of working at the farthest property from the office. Nobody's gonna say anything! Since I last logged my stuff here, I went out to the D*** road property. It's a lazy Monday, I'm done all my make readys for my move ins next month so I'm not stressed, and I just cleaned up some garbage there. There's a lot less to do over there. One box spring, a couple cardboard boxes, and an old bathtub. All tossed in a bin. I caught one of the cleaners out there and we talked. I'm bad with names, so I can't put it here, even in a redacted form. She's nice though. We just talked about how expensive shit is getting, and how much of a dickhead our boss is. He drives a ferrari. He's a landlord. He's kinda a local villain. He sent me and everyone I work with an email to explain that we wouldn't be able to get in touch with him cause he's skiing in the north pole right now because business is so bad because hamas terrorists killed a bunch of innocent colonizers on the other side of the planet. OK man. I've worked here since the beginning of January and I still haven't seen him. And this is his second vacation of the year. Last was at the south pole. Thoughts and prayers dude, I hope you can crank up rent even higher soon 🙏. During my chat with the cleaning lady my bestie sent me some pics. During high school we were super tight, but their parents moved to Nova Scotia on our last day of grade 11 and they've lived there ever since. But just yesterday they touched down in Alberta for a summer job out in the mountains at some kind of resort. Included in some of the pics they sent me was a trailer park at the foot of some mountains. Doesn't that just seem beautiful? I'm not a man of excess, I'm very very easy to please, I think I could do well in a cheap double-wide with a view. I think I could convince Liv to get out there with me. She's in school right now so it would probably take a year or two. But I've talked about moving all over (even to alberta) so many times this is all just another pipe dream. That being said, best of luck to the homie Llewellyn and all of their future alberta endeavors.

4:00 : leaving work. Didn't do any more cleaning. Just sat around.

4:26 : just got home. Liv stayed home to study for her exams. But she cooked me some Ramen and hot dogs that were ready when i got home. Thank you Liv ❤️. She's watching a YouTube video where some Korean guys bite things in a kitchen, and some of the things they bite may be cake. It's a beautiful warm day out so I put down my tools and stripped butt naked, sat down on the couch, and dug into my food. I think I'm going to play some pokemon quarantine crystal on my phone.

4:54 : changed my mind and changed the TV to something we can watch together. Literally since I made that last entry to now I've been looking for a movie to watch. I settled on hereditary. It took me half an hour to find a movie. I think there's something wrong with my brain

5:15 : Liv wanted to paint so I'm here on da toilet thinking of things to paint

6:29 : I painted a face. I always paint faces. This one came out ugly. That's ok cause plenty of people have ugly faces. I feel ugly so I wanted to make something kinda ugly. I had a beer and now I'm laying in bed. I never nap but I feel like I want one right now. I asked Liv to wake me up in 20 but idk if I'll actually fall asleep at all. Guess we'll see.

6:34 : instagram was always fucking dumb but now it feels extra extra dumb.

8:29 : Liv came in to "wake me up" (I didn't sleep) but she climbed into bed and we held eachother and we had sex. We left bed, she continued painting and I played some Persona 4, which I haven't played in a bit. Good news everyone: Yukiko Amagi is safe!! Me and Liv are going out to get Boba now. Liv's painting is really pretty. A long time ago she painted one really similar to what she's painting now, so this one is kinda an update. A psychedelic bust of a headless pink and yellow lady on a royal blue background. She says she's gonna have flowers busting out of a crack in her chest and her head hole. I can't wait to see how it turns out.

10:04 : it's the end of the day. I took my garbage out and passed my downstairs neighbors in the hall. We said hi. Paper recycling today. I've been slacking on that one. I don't care about recycling, it's just that it tears the regular garbage bags so it's easier to put it in a bin. So it's all outside now. I took a quick shower. I didn't wash my hair because I don't like the way it looks after it's been washed, all poofy and round. I blew my nose in my hand and it was still black from the dust in the unit with the warped drywall. A symbol of a hard day's work. Well, maybe not that hard. Either way, I'm in bed right now. Liv is calling her mom. They're tight. When she hangs up, we'll probably watch some simpsons or seinfeld and fall asleep hugging eachother all soft and warm uwu

[ashes-writing-corner]

Guess who's baaaaack?! That's right folks, yours truly, back with the first update for Ghosts That We Knew! Think of this as like a second season or something. I knew it took a while to get this up and I'm honestly really sorry but work and life have been running me rancid all month. I work at a toy store so...yeah.

But you're not here to read about my life struggles, you're here for the fun stuff. That being said, let's get to it!

Taglist: @stargatenovus

Ghosts That We Knew

Part 9- Village of Memories

The holidays were always a bit of a sore spot for him. It was around this time, not very long ago, that he had lost everyone who mattered to him. The night Simon Riley had died for the first time, becoming Ghost for the first time. 

But watching you and Ellie put up a tree and decorations around the apartment while soft piano music played Christmas carols gave him something of an equivalent of the warm-fuzzies. Whatever that really was for a ghost, as he couldn't name it himself. It just felt nice. It felt right. For goodness sake, you had even put lights around the outside of your bearded dragon's tank. As usual, Beardie was completely unbothered as he basked under his heating lamp. 

Ghost never thought he'd see a sight like this again, much less be somewhat happy to see it. But as long as you and Ellie were happy, so was he. You had been sad to take down the Halloween decorations, as that was your favorite holiday, but he never would've guessed it with how much effort you put into making this dingy old apartment a Christmas wonderland. You had the big tree close to the window of the living area, tall and bright for all to see from below. Then you had a smaller tree next to the stand where you had Beardie's tank. 

“That's Beardie's tree! We do Christmas for him in January” Ellie explained and Ghost would nod, silently getting it. 

The day of decorating was fun. He loved watching you and your daughter set everything up. From the tree, to the lights, to the first round of baking you two did together, everything was done with such love and joy. Your smile never entirely reached your eyes though, he noticed. It wasn't a facade per se, but something was getting to you and Ghost could feel it. 

It was only after Ellie went to bed that he was let in on that. 

Ghost watched as you brought up several small to medium sized boxes out to the living room once your daughter was asleep. You set them in front of the TV set. You didn't actually own a TV, but you had an enormously long set of drawers that would've been perfect for one against the front of the living room wall. Ghost watched as you got yourself a glass of apple cider once all the boxes were out, non alcoholic of course, and got to work. 

Silent as a shadow, you set a long, sparkling white sheet across the set. You tried to layer it in some places to make it look like a mountain or hill, using some cotton for this effect. Ghost watched with interest as you started putting tiny glass and ceramic buildings all over the set with a sad but reverent smile. 

He got it. You were setting up one of those tiny Christmas villages that some folks liked to put up. He didn't think much of them, but they were kind of cute. Ghost wondered though why you seemed sad about it as you worked. 

Wrong? Your phone sounded out. 

You stopped in your work as the mechanical sounding voice asked. You turned toward the coffee table. 

“What?” You asked, hoping for clarification. 

What…wrong? 

“Oh! Nothing, I'm fine” you stopped and decided to take a break from your work, “what's wrong with you? You've been awfully quiet as of late, since I got the Cafe up and running”. 

Not…me. 

You raised a brow. “Hm?”. 

About.

“Oh! I'm okay I promise. It's just” you stopped and looked at the partly finished village, taking in all the little pieces with a soft sigh, “this is just the hardest part for me”. 

Why? 

Ghost sat next to you on the couch and you felt a chill go through you. You sighed and took a sip of cider before answering. 

“The Christmas village was my partner’s thing. I would decorate the tree with Ellie while they would work on that. I never used to even touch this because I was so afraid of messing it up” you admitted, “they would take pictures between set ups, mostly for the memories. I have whole Christmas photo albums stored away somewhere, all of the pictures were ones they took”. 

That explained the sadness a little. You missed your partner, and he could understand that. He missed his teammates, as they too would do different decorations around the base, just to lighten the mood around this time of year. 

“This is my first time doing it since they passed. I didn't have the heart to do it before” you told him as you took another sip, “ha, unintentional pun is unintentional”. 

You swore you heard your companion chuckle next to you as you continued.

“I want to surprise Ellie with it, since I know she loves it too and she misses them immensely”. 

You had moved the picture of them from your room to the living room around the first of December. You had a small altar to them, a place of honor as you were getting to be rather death positive. This was in part due to your own near escape from death, and other part due to your friendship with Ghost. 

“I never thought I'd be haunted one day” you admitted, “and if I was…well…I was hoping it'd be them. No offense but-”. 

None…taken. 

He really wasn't upset about that statement. Ghost understood entirely. You loved your partner and in a way becoming a spirit was a way of coming back. It was a second chance of sorts. In fact his original plan was to pose as your partner, but that went out the window because Ellie could see him. 

What…happen?

“What happened to them? They were a soldier and got shipped off about two years after we adopted Ellie. They unfortunately didn't make it back. I wasn't told too many details, but from what I could gather, they were trying to save civilians from a building that was being bombarded by some fanatics” you paused for a moment, “Ellie didn't know them very long, but the impact their death had on her was very much felt. They were the first to really notice her at the orphanage where we adopted her…they fell for her hard. I swear it was the sweetest thing”. 

You smiled a little thinking of the night you two had decided to adopt her. You two had spent the day playing with her, doing finger painting, and playing in the small park on the orphanage grounds. It was so sweet to watch them together. 

“I was always iffy about wanting kids, but they really made me feel better about it. They couldn't get pregnant, and it was too dangerous for me with my condition at the time.  I didn't think motherhood was in the cards for me. But my partner gave me the confidence I needed” you took another pause to drink your apple cider, “they said that they didn't care what other little kids were around, they wanted Ellie. Oh they fell hard. It was so damn sweet. So…who was I to deny that? We got everything ready, finalized everything with the courts, went through so many trials and tests before we were finally able to bring her home”. 

Ghost listened intently. Fatherhood was definitely never in the cards for him. It wasn't that he didn't like little ones. Far from it. But he had no desire to potentially put them in harm's way. Everyone he dared tried to get close to died horribly. He would've been damned completely to have set an innocent child up like that. 

Good…mother…

You smiled at the words. “I'm trying. I'm sure they'd say the same thing but…sometimes I feel like I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. And after my transplant, it didn't help much. I hated that she had to see me like that. I thought by moving here, closer to my family, things would get easier, away from all the bullshit going on in the US. But fate decided to give me more bullshit after moving here” you looked at your chest with a mockingly accusatory face. 

You glanced over at the side of the couch where you assumed your not so visible friend was. You would've been right if he had the energy to show himself. 

“Ghost…this may sound weird but, aside from Ellie, you're the only person who makes me feel like I actually exist. Seriously, a dead man who killed three guys in my apartment makes me feel like I'm even remotely important. Don't ever underestimate your own importance, okay?”. 

That was a surprise to learn. A dead man made you feel alive, like you were real. Oh the irony of that statement. Double irony when he thought about it. It was a feeling he understood, as his team were often the only ones to make him feel like he was actually alive. He wasn't just Ghost to them. He was a friend, a brother to them. He was Simon to them when they weren't in a war zone. 

Thank…you. 

“Hey don't mention it” you stood up from the sofa to get back to work on the Christmas village, “I'm almost done. I can't wait for her to wake up tomorrow and see it set up”. 

You were caught off guard a little as one of the smaller pieces was levitated and gently set within the village. 

Help. Was all your phone said. 

You couldn't help but smile at that. “I'd really like that. Thank you. Just…try not to break anything”. 

Promise. 

You spent another hour finishing the village before the pair of you sat on the couch to admire your work. The apartment was all done up for Christmas, and it just left a soft, positive feeling between the two of you. Not wanting to leave it just yet, you laid on the couch and let yourself get cozy. You couldn't help but imagine your partner being there, snuggling you on the couch while you two admired your work. 

The thought almost brought you to tears, until you felt a chill embrace you and saw the couch blanket be pulled to your chin. You heard a soft voice whisper: “Let's just stay like this…”. 

You nodded, knowing it was him. “I'd really like that” you smiled and snuggled more into that cold embrace, only it didn't feel as cold in the colorful light's warm and soft glow…

If you guys enjoyed this please consider liking, commenting, and please reblog! I seriously appreciate it! I do wanna get another chapter out before or at least on Christmas! Don't worry I will be bringing the other 141st members in here soon. I might even throw in Riley (in my headcanon for this Soap adopted Riley...so keep an eye out for that...) for extra pet related angst. See you guys soon and I hope the holidays are treating you well <3

[crawlspacefics]

WIP - That Night Beneath the Moon

(Sequel to "A Bit of Mischief")

Chapter 1

Setsuna followed the young scientist through the halls of the research building.  He chatted animatedly, mentioning again how impressive her resume looked for a first year graduate student.  She caught a glimpse of herself in a large, shaded window and unconsciously adjusted her crisp white lab coat even though it already hung perfectly straight over her blouse and skirt.  They came to the end of a hallway, and her new boss punched his keycard into a reader before holding the door open for her with a flourish.

Three months ago, she wouldn’t have guessed this was the door she’d be passing through today.

In the first few days after dealing with the mischievous Venusian goddess, she and Kaya had just had fun.  It was a long weekend for frivolous things and a little bit of time for themselves.  In spite of that sentiment, Pluto had woken each morning with a tense caution, waiting for the Goddess’ whispered reminder of her duty and place to become the command to return to The Gate.

Yet that command never came. 

Their long weekend stretched into the next week as Kaya’s classes resumed.  At first, Kaya would rush home every afternoon, hesitancy in the way she opened the door followed by visible relief that the apartment wasn’t empty.  Setsuna’s promise not to leave without saying goodbye did less to reassure Kaya than the simple passage of time did.

Another week passed, then another.  A daily routine set in - Kaya became less cautious of spending more time at the library or working on a lab project, Setsuna began acquainting herself with the astronomy lab in an attempt to keep an eye on her greater mission.  Setsuna cooked, though she couldn't completely break Kaya of her take out and convenience store chicken boxes.  Thursday nights at nine were set aside for reruns of Detective Zima and every morning started with tea on the balcony. 

Setsuna had even gotten herself a new name - Meiou.  She and Kaya had tossed around a few ideas, and Setsuna had chosen this one because it was the closest modern equivalent to her family title.

So now here she was.  First year graduate student Meiou Setsuna being enthusiastically introduced to the research group she hoped would give her access to the equipment and data she needed to begin finding her team and tracking the force she was destined to destroy.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Kaya rolled her shoulders and shifted in her library chair.  Ideas for what she wanted to do for dinner tonight for Setsuna’s first day of work were superimposed over her books and a journal article on cardiac ultrasonography she was digging way too deeply into.

She was so caught up in it all she didn’t hear Suoh coming up behind her.  He dropped the stack of books he was carrying on the table beside her, making her jump.

“Ten minutes, Kaya,” he said, a combination of bored and weary.

Kaya smirked.  “Nice try, Suoh, but I know you’re open until eight tonight.”

Suoh held out his wrist and tapped his watch.

Gray eyes went wide in horror.  “No, no, no,” muttered Kaya as she hastily started shoving her belongings into her backpack.  “Not tonight.”  Then she looked at all the extra books and journals strewn out on the library table.

“Oh, no,” said Suoh.  He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.  “I am not cleaning up your mess so you can go screw around with your smoochie smooch smooch.”

“Come on,” pleaded Kaya even as she was backing away from him and the messy table.  “What’s the difference between this and the return cart?  We’ll call it a favor.”

Suoh signed dramatically.  “Fine.”

“Thanks, Suoh,” she smiled as she started moving quickly to the exit.  "I owe you one."

“Yes, you do!” he called after her.  “And I want to know how you get yourself out of this one!”

[serankpro]

The Psychology Behind High-Converting Landing Pages

In the wild digital jungle where attention spans are shorter than a TikTok trend, your landing page is your handshake, your elevator pitch, and your first date—rolled into one. At our Digital Marketing Company in Chandigarh, we’ve seen businesses treat their landing pages like neglected garage sales: cluttered, confusing, and full of broken promises. No wonder conversions ghost them.

But here's the good news: turning browsers into buyers isn’t witchcraft—it’s psychology (with a dash of caffeine and clever design). Let’s break down the mind games that work—ethically, of course.

I. First Impressions Matter: The Landing Page Glow-Up

You’ve got 8 seconds to impress your visitor. That’s shorter than it takes your aunt to mispronounce “Wi-Fi.” If your page loads looking like it was designed on Windows 95, people will bounce faster than a kid on a sugar high.

Visual hierarchy: Guide their eyes like a digital sherpa. Headlines should scream (not literally), images should support, and CTAs should pop like a Bollywood dance break.

Color psychology: Red creates urgency, blue builds trust, and beige makes people yawn. Use colors intentionally—or consult a toddler with a crayon box.

Typography: Rule #1: No Comic Sans. Rule #2: Seriously, no Comic Sans.

Psych Trick: The Halo Effect – People judge your brand’s credibility based on appearance. If your site looks clean, they assume you’ve got your act together—even if your coffee mug says otherwise.

II. The Power of Clarity: Don’t Make Me Think (or Cry)

If your headline reads like a riddle, your visitor won’t solve it—they’ll just hit back.

Clear headline: “Get Your Free Trial Today” works better than “Unlock Infinite Potential via Platform Synergy.” What does that even mean, Chad?

Obvious CTA: “Start My Free Trial” > “Proceed with Operational Optimization.”

Avoid overload: White space isn’t wasted space. It’s the adult equivalent of taking a breath.

Psych Trick: Cognitive Fluency – The brain likes easy things. If your landing page feels like a math test, the only formula you’ll solve is “0 conversions.”

III. Social Proof: Because Nobody Wants to Be First at the Party

Humans are pack animals. If others trust you, you must be safe—like that one food truck always surrounded by people.

Testimonials: Showcase real humans. Bonus points if they’re smiling and not clearly stock photo models.

Logos: Flaunt the brands you’ve worked with like badges of honor.

Reviews: Display them tastefully—not like a desperate restaurant Yelp page.

Psych Trick: Social Validation – People mimic others to avoid risk. If someone else took the leap and survived, they might too.

IV. Scarcity and Urgency: FOMO Is a Marketing Love Language

Ever added something to your cart, saw “Only 2 left!”, and suddenly needed it like oxygen? Welcome to the fear of missing out.

Timers: Tick-tock psychology in action.

Limited offers: If it’s always available, it’s never exciting.

Truth only: Fake scarcity is like fake Gucci. Everyone knows, and no one trusts you.

Psych Trick: Loss Aversion – The pain of missing out is stronger than the joy of gaining. Use that ethically, or your karma will bounce faster than your visitors.

V. Consistency & Trust: Don’t Catfish Your Visitors

Imagine clicking on a “Free SEO Audit” ad and landing on a page that talks about handmade dog sweaters. That’s not quirky—it’s confusing.

Consistent messaging: If your ad says “fast delivery,” your landing page shouldn’t say “allow 3-4 weeks.”

Trust signals: Secure checkout badges, privacy disclaimers, and testimonials help create that warm fuzzy feeling.

Human language: Don’t sound like a 404 error in a suit. Speak like a human who’s had at least one cup of coffee.

Psych Trick: Consistency Bias – If you act the same across touchpoints, people trust you more. It’s why we still trust that one uncle who’s been telling the same bad jokes for years.

VI. The CTA Button: Small Button, Big Job

This is where the magic happens—or doesn’t. Your CTA is your digital pick-up line. It better not be “Submit.”

Button text: “Start My Free Trial” or “Yes, I Want This!” beat “Click Here” every day of the week.

Color & contrast: It should stand out—not hide like your gym membership.

Placement: Don’t make people scroll for eternity to find it. Above the fold is your friend.

Psych Trick: Commitment & Affirmation – People want to feel like clicking that button is their own brilliant idea. Help them feel smart.

VII. A/B Testing: Because You're Not a Mind Reader (We Checked)

Think your landing page is perfect? That’s adorable. Now test it.

Headlines: Try bold vs. benefit-driven.

Images: Real humans vs. illustrations. Let the people decide.

Buttons: “Get Started” vs. “Claim My Spot.” Winner gets a trophy (and better ROI).

Psych Trick: Confirmation Bias – You’ll always favor your first version. But unless you’re psychic, let the data call the shots.

VIII. Mobile Experience: Respect the Thumb

Over half of web traffic is on mobile, yet many landing pages still act like mobile users are an afterthought.

Big buttons: Designed for thumbs, not toothpicks.

Speed: If it loads slower than your grandma’s dial-up, say goodbye.

Clean layout: One CTA. One message. No accordion menus from hell.

Psych Trick: Friction = Lost Sales – Every extra scroll, tap, or laggy image is a conversion killer. Mobile optimization = respect.

IX. Conclusion: Your Landing Page, But Smarter (and Sexier)

Creating a high-converting landing page isn’t about throwing buzzwords at a template and praying. It’s about understanding the psychology of your visitors and making every pixel earn its keep.

If you're feeling overwhelmed—don't worry. That’s where we step in. As a trusted Digital Marketing Company in Chandigarh, we’ve helped businesses across industries build landing pages that not only look great but convert like charm school graduates.

So whether you're optimizing your first page or your fiftieth, remember this: humans don’t convert because you ask nicely. They convert because your landing page made it feel like their idea.

[shamsabaddai-ardn631]

Wk 4: SDL - Portraits towards the brief -My best friends

"Coven"

Indoor photoshoot, just after sunset.

I had planned to try and get some outdoor photos in the evening light, but it was spitting rain, so I had to abandon that plan.

Tools:

I had picked up a piece of large a3 sized golden cardboard at Spotlight in the morning to test as a warm/goldish light reflector, and I picked up a couple of pieces of fabric to use as either backdrops or props or texture.

I also have a cheap softbox light that had either cool light mode, or warm, very simple, courtesy of Amazon, and I tried to light the different spaces as best I could.

I asked for Lael & Mish to bring outfits in warm tones and neutrals...and we tried different spaces, and different looks/moods.

I used a 50mm prime lens for the whole shoot. I had just gotten it, and I was really keen to practice, and test it out. My camera is an APS-C, crop sensor, and with a 50mm lens equipped (x 1.6) it works out to be equivalent to an 80mm lens on a full frame camera (I believe).

***

Reflections:

my gosh, that was my first time running a little photoshoot. omg, so proud.

Personally, the 50mm lens indoors felt like a bit of challenge...however, it allowed my camera to open up nice and wide and let in the most amount of light in (at night) compared to my kit lenses. I like how natural and real Lael & Michelle's portraits came out, nothing distorted, so pretty. I also really adore the gorgeous clarity of the images. I do think, however, indoors it was harder in small spaces to get the soft creamy background as my 'models' were typically close to their background, and I had to get as faaaaar back as possible to get the subject in frame. I was used to the ease of just making my camera fit what it need in or out with a kit lens. But, I do think the 50mm made me think about the composition more? I'm enjoying it a lot though.

the tripod came in insanely handy when it got much darker after sunset. I tried to avoid cranking up the ISO to avoid noisy photos. I did hate initially that I couldn't move instinctively at will due to the tripod, (it could be because its just a basic tripod), it doesn't have a gimbal-thingy either, so I felt like it took me a while to get precisely into a 'frame' I liked, (instead of just crouching or moving myself into the ideal spot within 30 seconds). I also hadn't realised that my tripod could shift the camera into a portrait position... I found that out much later, so initially whenever I used the tripod I thought I was cornered into just landscapes, but I worked with it. Glad to be learning new things on the mov though. Also my camera isn't fancy, so it struggled with low light, so I have some hits, but lots of misses where I had to trial & error my way into getting a photo with as low a shutter speed as possible without blur to let in as much light as possible, and working with my ISO level to correctly expose my image.

I think using the gold-cardboard 'reflector' from Spotlight was fun, and pretty, however there are photos where I noticed afterwards that there seems to be 'yellowish' staining/tones on the skin where the light was reflected toooo directly onto the skin, and it looks like a mistake. I should pay more attention to the light distribution and how harsh it is in future.

I hadn't learned about setting the AF area yet, and I couldn't figure out why in so many shots the eyes of my model weren't sharp, despite half-pressing and focusing in on their eyes initially. It seemed to focus in on their noses instinctively or a prop. Now I know that could be a potential cause. I also learned that I can focus on their cheek by their eye too.

Overall, we experimented with lots of different lighting. Starting with facing the natural evening light coming in through the wide window/French doors, indoor lights facing a different direction, gold cardboard as a reflector, using fabric from Spotlight as a backdrop and prop, different poses, my cheap amazon soft box light with various light modes, tripod in different heights and positions, and finally under my 'pinkish' toned lightbulb that can change hues.

[more-gremlin-than-fae]

I reblogged this once already without commentary but actually I am team "Do" BUT and this is the part that leads to most of these tragedies: "Do it with respect"

The ocean can and will kill you, without pity or remorse, whether you're on or under it.

But you can make exploring it safer by:

respecting the decades of expertise that go into the classification and certification of vessels instead of saying shit like “The vast majority of marine (and aviation) accidents are a result of operator error, not mechanical failure” - yeah, you know why, dipshit? because there are fucking standards in place for the mechanical stuff which, unlike people, operate in expected ways because they meet those standards

respecting that things can and will go wrong and having an actual plan for emergencies instead of coming to it with the attitude "At some point, safety is just pure waste" - Listen, you will never make anything 100% safe, especially not in the ocean, but that is not the attitude I want the person in charge of designing or signing off on safety protocols to have, good lord. You know what you can have instead of a ship with a Starlink*, an X-Box controller and a door that bolts on from the outside? Electromagnetic ballast, and multiple methods of communication on board, and a locator beacon, and a door that you can fucking open from the inside so that if and when shit goes wrong, your boat will goddamn float to a place where the radio works and you can be rescued and in the meantime there is air to fucking breathe. Certified submarines are built with multiple redundancies because even with certifications and the best inspections in the world, stuff. goes. wrong.

respecting the weather conditions - you know why they were going to be "probably the only manned mission to the Titanic in 2023"? BECAUSE THE WEATHER CONDITIONS WERE LOUSY. It was the worst winter in Newfoundland (which is saying something, boy howdy) in decades, every other group that might have had the intention to do a manned mission looked at that same weather window these guys saw and went "Nope, the sea is changeable and the weather this is year is more fickle than it's been in decades, no thanks"

*Y'all I HAVE a Starlink and it is actually genuinely better than many internet providers - like it's equivalent to a fiber connection and I remote in to work on it most of the time - but also it stops working when: it gets too hot, it gets too cold, it does not like where it is in the garden, i haven't signed in to my account in awhile, and between 3 and 3:15pm every day because there is a tree branch casting a shadow on it for that 15 min window, IT SHOULD NOT BE A KEY PART OF YOUR SAFETY GEAR because it is still new technology that is prone to unexpected failure.

And even if it wasn't [points at multiple redundancies line above], boats carry: a radio, lights, an airhorn, an anchor or three, a big-ass flashlight or spotlight, signal flares, signal flags, and these days probably GPS, not to mention the adults on board having cell phones just for a day sail. You know why? Because conditions on large bodies of water can and do turn at the drop of a hat and if you don't have safety gear, you could become the cautionary tale.

We set out once to sail locally from like, Vancouver to, I think we were heading for Bowen - not even crossing the Gulf - and when we started it was overcast but it was not even supposed to rain. Next thing we know, it's goddamn snowing. And not just snowing because the wind has picked up (enough that it caused the jib to rip) so it's whiteout conditions. We're still in Burrard Inlet but we cannot see more than a couple of meters on any side of the boat - the sky is white, the sea is white, all you can see is snow on all sides where not 5 before we were in comfortable sight of the shoreline.

We know we're near Lighthouse Park, but we can't see the lighthouse and we don't know if we'll see the rocks before we run into them. So here is teen me scrambling up the boat in nothing but a sweater (with a PFD over it) and jeans frantically pulling down the damaged sail, while my dad tries not to steer us into any rocks and my mom is trying to pull out the GPS unit (which was a new thing for itty bitty sailboats like us to have at the time) and the air horn and the PDFs and whatever we had in the way of cold weather gear. If we hadn't had the GPS (or the boat engine) to get us back to False Creek, we might have had to try and anchor out until conditions cleared or edge towards shore and hope we didn't run aground while we tried to find to a shoreline to follow back.

I could hear my parents but not see the cockpit of the boat (that is roughly 20ft) and the sea was rough enough that I was likely to end up IN it, if I'd tried to get back, plus we needed someone at the bow to keep watch for hazards. I spent a very miserable time the whole way back huddled in the front of the boat, using the broken sail as both cushion and emergency blanket, while my parents got us back to our moorage safely.

TAKE YOUR SAFETY MEASURES SERIOUSLY OR DON'T TAKE TO THE SEA

I think the thing about the ocean is that it does not want us there, and it can kill you so much to prove this.

Look, SOME of us grew up repeatedly hearing The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald from a young age and that Lake Superior never gives up her dead. The ocean is like that but MUCH BIGGER and MORE.

Do not!

[certifiedestronaut]

Anyone want to hear the fucking little ordeal I had to go through to uninstall GOG Galaxy from my computer just now? You do? Good.

So GOG broke at some point and when my computer started up it would give me this annoying popup along the lines of "Yeah something got completely borked you'll need to reinstall." I decided I would rather just uninstall it because I never use GOG. So I go to uninstall it but... it just doesn't. Apparently the program is so borked that the uninstall wizard just doesn't work. So to uninstall it, I need to first reinstall it. Which is lame.

So I do that. The program is reinstalled, and I think I forgot to untick the box that says "Launch this program now." Because it launches. Anyway, I go to uninstall but, you know, if the program is running you can't uninstall it. So I close it out. And this is where the fun begins because of COURSE closing the program doesn't actually close the program. So I close the program in the task manager... and that... doesn't... work... When I close the program in the TASK MANAGER, it just... relaunches the program? It just doesn't go away. The ONLY way to close the fucking program so I could uninstall it was to click the gear in the program window and click "Exit."

I am filled with so much hate for this sort of shit. When I click the X button on a program, I want it to CLOSE. When I close a program through the task manager, I want it to FUCKING CLOSE. I do NOT want to have to go into the setting of the program to find the only true off button. I am your master you despicable little program windows! You remain running on my computer by my good grace alone. I do not want to go to you with hat in hand to ask you if you might be so kind as to stop sucking up my processing power. I am your God, and I should be able to do the equivalent of a tactical nuclear strike on you at will and eradicate you from my hard drive for all eternity.