#I don't know why I spent so long cleaning up the image file of the fruit snack bag lol

[empty-movement]

May I ask what scanners / equipment / software you're using in the utena art book project? I'm an artist and half the reason I rarely do traditional art is because I'm never happy with the artwork after it's scanned in. But the level of detail even in the blacks of Utena's uniform were all captured so beautifully! And even the very light colors are showing up so well! I'd love to know how you manage!

You know what's really fun? This used to be something you put in your site information section, the software and tools used! Not something that's as normal anymore, but let's give it a go, sorry it's long because I don't know what's new information and what's not! Herein: VANNA'S 'THIS IS AS SPECIFIC AS MY BREAK IS LONG' GUIDE/AIMLESS UNEDITED RAMBLE ABOUT SCANNING IMAGES

Scanning: Modern scanners, by and large, are shit for this. The audience for scanning has narrowed to business and work from home applications that favor text OCR, speed, and efficiency over archiving and scanning of photos and other such visual media. It makes sense--there was a time when scanning your family photographs and such was a popular expected use of a scanner, but these days, the presumption is anything like that is already digital--what would you need the scanner to do that for? The scanner I used for this project is the same one I have been using for *checks notes* a decade now. I use an Epson Perfection V500. Because it is explicitly intended to be a photo scanner, it does threebthings that at this point, you will pay a niche user premium for in a scanner: extremely high DPI (dots per inch), extremely wide color range, and true lossless raws (BMP/TIFF.) I scan low quality print media at 600dpi, high quality print media at 1200 dpi, and this artbook I scanned at 2400 dpi. This is obscene and results in files that are entire GB in size, but for my purposes and my approach, the largest, clearest, rawest copy of whatever I'm scanning is my goal. I don't rely on the scanner to do any post-processing. (At these sizes, the post-processing capacity of the scanner is rendered moot, anyway.) I will replace this scanner when it breaks by buying another identical one if I can find it. I have dropped, disassembled to clean, and abused this thing for a decade and I can't believe it still tolerates my shit. The trade off? Only a couple of my computers will run the ancient capture software right. LMAO. I spent a good week investigating scanners because of the insane Newtype project on my backburner, and the quality available to me now in a scanner is so depleted without spending over a thousand on one, that I'd probably just spin up a computer with Windows 7 on it just to use this one. That's how much of a difference the decade has made in what scanners do and why. (Enshittification attacks! Yes, there are multiple consumer computer products that have actually declined in quality over the last decade.)

Post-processing: Photoshop. Sorry. I have been using Photoshop for literally decades now, it's the demon I know. While CSP is absolutely probably the better piece of software for most uses (art,) Photoshop is...well it's in the name. In all likelihood though, CSP can do all these things, and is a better product to give money to. I just don't know how. NOTENOTENOTE: Anywhere I discuss descreening and print moire I am specifically talking about how to clean up *printed media.* If you are scanning your own painting, this will not be a problem, but everything else about this advice will stand! The first thing you do with a 2400 dpi scan of Utena and Anthy hugging? Well, you open it in Photoshop, which you may or may not have paid for. Then you use a third party developer's plug-in to Descreen the image. I use Sattva. Now this may or may not be what you want in archiving!!! If fidelity to the original scan is the point, you may pass on this part--you are trying to preserve the print screen, moire, half-tones, and other ways print media tricks the eye. If you're me, this tool helps translate the raw scan of the printed dots on the page into the smooth color image you see in person. From there, the vast majority of your efforts will boil down to the following Photoshop tools: Levels/Curves, Color Balance, and Selective Color. Dust and Scratches, Median, Blur, and Remove Noise will also be close friends of the printed page to digital format archiver. Once you're happy with the broad strokes, you can start cropping and sizing it down to something reasonable. If you are dealing with lots of images with the same needs, like when I've scanned doujinshi pages, you can often streamline a lot of this using Photoshop Actions.

My blacks and whites are coming out so vivid this time because I do all color post-processing in Photoshop after the fact, after a descreen tool has been used to translate the dot matrix colors to solids they're intended to portray--in my experience trying to color correct for dark and light colors is a hot mess until that process is done, because Photoshop sees the full range of the dots on the image and the colors they comprise, instead of actually blending them into their intended shades. I don't correct the levels until I've descreened to some extent.

As you can see, the print pattern contains the information of the original painting, but if you try to correct the blacks and whites, you'll get a janky mess. *Then* you change the Levels:

If you've ever edited audio, then dealing with photo Levels and Curves will be familiar to you! A well cut and cleaned piece of audio will not cut off the highs and lows, but also will make sure it uses the full range available to it. Modern scanners are trying to do this all for you, so they blow out the colors and increase the brightness and contrast significantly, because solid blacks and solid whites are often the entire thing you're aiming for--document scanning, basically. This is like when audio is made so loud details at the high and low get cut off. Boo.

What I get instead is as much detail as possible, but also at a volume that needs correcting:

Cutting off the unused color ranges (in this case it's all dark), you get the best chance of capturing the original black and white range:

In some cases, I edit beyond this--for doujinshi scans, I aim for solid blacks and whites, because I need the file sizes to be normal and can't spend gigs of space on dust. For accuracy though, this is where I'd generally stop.

For scanning artwork, the major factor here that may be fucking up your game? Yep. The scanner. Modern scanners are like cheap microphones that blow out the audio, when what you want is the ancient microphone that captures your cat farting in the next room over. While you can compensate A LOT in Photoshop and bring out blacks and whites that scanners fuck up, at the end of the day, what's probably stopping you up is that you want to use your scanner for something scanners are no longer designed to do well. If you aren't crazy like me and likely to get a vintage scanner for this purpose, keep in mind that what you are looking for is specifically *a photo scanner.* These are the ones designed to capture the most range, and at the highest DPI. It will be a flatbed. Don't waste your time with anything else.

Hot tip: if you aren't scanning often, look into your local library or photo processing store. They will have access to modern scanners that specialize in the same priorities I've listed here, and many will scan to your specifications (high dpi, lossless.)

Ahem. I hope that helps, and or was interesting to someone!!!

#utena #image archiving #scanning #archiving #revolutionary girl utena #digitizing #photo scanner #art scanning

[kirby-the-gorb]

#kirby #food #daily kirby #my art #digital #hal laboratory #nintendo #request #many people provided him with fruit snacks :) #I don't know why I spent so long cleaning up the image file of the fruit snack bag lol #it was kinda nice though! #cleaning up images has some of the same appeal as doing data entry with long strings of numbers. #it is definitely just a stolen product photo tho :v

[stuckybarton]

Sucker For Pain i

SUMMARY: You were new to the team, but what everyone didn't know was you weren't so new to the God of Mischief. CHARACTERS: Loki Laufeyson x Ex!Reader [Ex to Lovers again?] WARNINGS: Profanities. Suggestive Themes. Slight Angst and horrible self-image. Grammar Mistakes. English not being my first language. [Not Beta’d tho] WORDS: 2,956 CHAPTERS: [1/3] A/N; Life happened and yeah, didn’t have much time to write. Not my best work for this mini-series, but I’m fighting through for this. Hope you guys enjoy~

PART TWO | PART THREE

MASTERLIST || Join the Taglist

"Agent Y/N Y/L/N." You introduced yourself the first moment you were escorted into the compound by Director Nick Fury. Multiple sets of faces both new and old had come to greet you. For a moment you wouldn't even believe that this is was the new life you would find yourself to be a part of from now on.

Years in the job for SHIELD before disappearing off the grid to get as much information about HYDRA, everyone had thought you had betrayed them and you had accepted that they would think so lowly of you after all the near-deaths you had to endure on the job. Even with the mission becoming more of a death wish, you had accepted the role Nick had given you all those years ago and now you were rewarded, immensely. A spot on the Avengers as part of the Earth's Mightiest Heroes.

The familiar face of Nat was the first to greet you with a hug. A fiercely tight one, it had been so long since you've seen a friend. Then your eyes fell towards the rest of the team; Bucky Barnes, who you had a few close encounters with during your time with HYDRA. You had witness everything they had done to him and stood on trail to clean his name. Steve Rogers, who, with Sharon Carter, had assisted in guarding Steve while SHIELD was still under HYDRA's control. But among the familiar faces, one stood out the most.

Loki Laufeyson.

To many, the man was a snake, a God that had once brought death and destruction in New York. But to you, he was different, this was the man that you had spent your lonely nights with while under the guise of a traitor. It had once just been a physically thing between the two of you, neither wanting to know about each other's lives. You knew he was a God, a man that had wronged the world, but he had never known about you, the woman that had painted yourself as a traitor for the better of the world. The one that had been called every name on the book for the sake of making sure you did your part right.

Then it got serious between the two of you. Admission of love was told between both of your lips. But it was dangerous for you two to be together especially when you were already told by Fury that you can come back to the surface. You didn't know what side he was on, and you did not have the heart to make him choose if the time would come.

So you two parted. A month ago. The pain still throbbing you like an unattended bullet hole right through your heart. It was still so painful to look at him and not remember him crumbling on his knees begging you to stay. The first sob that escaped his lips and forever haunted your dreams. A never-ending loop in the back of your head as your demons screamed at you for breaking an already broken man.

"I for one am happy you're finally here. Another woman to add to an already Man's Man world in the compound." Nat teased glancing towards the other individuals that had come to know the new face. "With introductions out of the way, you've got a lot of explaining to do for the past few years."

You could only smile at your friend. You did have so much to explain to her, things had been murky between you and Clint, but after everything, Nat had refused to believe you would betray them, betray her, and it was finally a relief to be able to return back home, seeing the people that mean the most to you.

"Tell me about it." You muttered allowing Nat to quickly pull your away from the crowd, but it missed your eyes how he was still looking. Ice blue eyes a contract to the burning gaze he had towards you.

Forget about him. Forget about him. You were here for a new opportunity. No him. Never him.

For the next few weeks, everyone had grown to accept you in your new role as part of the Avengers. You kept up with Steve, Bucky, and Sam during their runs. Sam more than happy to finally have someone that had the same pace as him, but only for you to laugh and out run him just to get a reaction out of the high flier. Tony and Bruce had also found a kinship in you, having provided them enough information about HYDRA's experiments and location made most of their missions easier. Then there was Nat and Clint, your confidant in this new life. Every single moment that was not dedicated to a mission was spent with them; may it be movie night or a simple get together outside the compound, often times bringing Wanda and Vision along just to mess with you and call you a 5th wheel of the group.

But among number of members on the team, everyone had noticed you constantly avoided one Thor Odinson and one Loki Laufeyson. The only real time you would even dare talk to either of the brothers would be during training--other than that, you tried your best to avoid them, Loki most especially. Every single moment that would force the two of you to be in the same room, Loki had a glare while you tried your best to avoid his gaze.

Everyone noticed, everyone didn't seem to worry too much. It comes with having a former-villain part of the team. They thought you would eventually get used to the God's presence just as much as they did.

"You ever gonna tell me what's going on between you and Loki?" Nat inquired avoiding your punch.

What you hated the most about sparring with Nat was her capability of multitasking. Talking and snooping about someone else's business while also kicking their ass in the process--this was the predicament you were in right in this very moment.

"Nothing is going on." You muttered landing back first on the mat after being thrown like a rag doll by Nat. Eyes looking at the ceiling, you wondered if it was a good idea to actually come clean to her about her past with the God of Mischief. "I know what he's done to New York and I think you can't blame me for taking precaution when it comes to him."

Nat now comes hovering on top of you, the narrowed eyes and gentle smirk was all you needed to know--she knew it was bullshit. But when she had stopped pushing you for more information, it was enough for you to just change the subject.

"They found Dominic?" You inquired. One of the first big missions that everyone was focusing on was one of the leading Scientist for HYDRA. With the exposure of HYDRA to the world, some of them had moved away and found themselves in much shadier company, much to everyone's radar now spiking.

Dominic Wagner was, in part, partially responsible for the Winter Soldier program in the modern era. One of the pioneers in moving the project into a much younger sets of test subjects. You lost contact with the man as soon as your got back into the surface, but it had also meant a target was on your back when they found out you were a double agent.

"He's in Russia. Wasting away all the funding for the program with parties" Nat points out. "Still a better way to spend the money that abducting kids everywhere."

You nodded, memories of files upon files for the prospects still haunted you to this day.

"When are you taking him out?" You inquired. In your time with the SHIELD, the red in both of your ledger had made you two a hot commodity if the situation present itself as shoot to kill. Neither of you would hesitate. You knew you would now, after everything, but if it means one less bad people in this earth, you would swallow your new morals.

"Fury wants him alive." She pointed out finally standing back up to her own two feet, leaving you on your back, staring at the ceiling in deep thought. "I know as much as you do, we want him dead for everything he has done, but we need him alive so we can get the others."

You nodded, this was one of the few things you had to get used to as part of the team. Death was best solution in SHIELD--at least in your team, not here. As long as you were part of Steve's team, you would need to choose whether or not killing would be the best option. Hope that you weren't so blessed to be given in your time under.

"I get a first shot when we don''t have any use of him anymore." You muttered finally standing back up with Nat's help. Steps faltering at the sight of the God of Mischief, training with the likes of Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, and Bucky Barnes. A weird mix up, but wasn't hard to understand why.

"Why don't you shoot your shots with him for now." Nat teased, finally making you break from staring at the plain black shirt and green sweatshort-clad Loki Laufeyson. "If we try to ignore the death count during his attack, he is sort-of your type in men." Nat wiggled her brows. quick to avoid you as you attempted to swat her in the ass, eyes now turned away from God and his training partners.

"By type, you mean psychotic with possible Daddy-issue? Then you might just be right." You snort.

"I'm offended you think of me as such, Darling"

Jerking your head to the owner of the voice, how the hell did he sneak up behind you without you noticing. You glanced at Nat in panic and like the traitor that she was, made a terrible excuse of being needed in Bruce's lab. Now being left in the man's presence, you could all but remember the last time you had been this close to the man.

Heartbreaks.

Words that you didn't mean.

Words that he didn't mean.

It still hurt you, and you were sure it hurts him just as much, if not more now, finally realizing why there had been a need for a breakup between the two of them all those weeks ago.

"Here I thought I would have someone to trust. You mortals continue to disappoint me." He hissed.

Your eyes glanced at the other training trio, noticing all three of them were in their own little world to even noticed what was going on between the two of them.

"Tell me, Darling..." He whispered, head leaning towards the shell of your ears. The familiar shiver run through your skin as just his voice. Memories of the very things his silver tongue had whispered had you flustered and breathless, more than from your earlier training with Nat. "Was it satisfying to play with a God?"

Before you could even mutter a word, his constantly gentle hand now covered your jaw, emitting a squeak from your lips and stopping you from saying a word. He was never this forceful, nor did he do anything that would hurt you. Was this the true nature of the man you had finally thought you have been the best part of you. To have loved a man that everyone was right to stay away from?

"Or is it shame finally coming to you, to be ever involved with someone like me?"

You tried to pry his hand away from you, but he was too strong--stronger than you could ever think of being.

"Or is this you taking your opportunity to move from one bed to another? Who will it be this time, Y/N? My oaf of a brother or will it be Soldier out of time? Who will you whore this time?"

And you finally snapped. With a resounding slap, all three individuals had heard your attack on the man and Loki finally releasing his hold on your jaws. A chuckle escaped his lips and only brought the first line of tears to fall from your eyes. You never wanted to believe him to be a monster, but here he was, proving her wrong.

"I am in doubt of the foundation of our relationship for the past years, Y/N. I am the God of Mischief and Lies and the only mortal I had ever truly opened to had done this to me. Lied to me for such a long time, lied about the entirety of our relationship."

"You will never understand."

"Oh no," he chuckled darkly, eyes glaring straight into your own. "I understand well enough to know, you would never love someone like me and I deserve every lie and heartache I am enduring because of everything I have ever done in my past."

Before you could defend yourself and the genuinity of your relationship with the God, he had made his excuse. Leaving you to ponder of the true damage of your breakup with Loki, and the aftermath it had now held for the both of you. He was right, you had lied, and either way, their relationship will fall apart because of those lies.

He was the God of Mischief and Lies.

Yet, he did not expect for this biggest lie to break him the most. The separation had been painful, he had always hoped for a better life with you. Then a month passed since your breakup, he sees you, it hits him like a sharp knife to the chest all over again. He experience the pain of a stab to the chest, but it would never compare to the pain of seeing you in this very compound with the truth of your life that you refused to ever open to him.

This was karma coming to haunt him it seems.

It had been well over a week now since the first time he had actually confronted you about everything. It wasn't how he planned for things to go through. He never wanted to hurt you, but he was a monster after all. A monster that his own father had told his people to avoid. A bedtime story to scare mischievous kids into submission.

He had always thought after everything he had to endure, had to do, had to escape, he could finally live a peaceful life. A life to finally start anew. A life where he could finally change for the best. A mortal woman had made him make those ideas come into reality, you had always became the reason why he would never have his redemption in life.

A bitter idea with no possible resolution.

How could he have ever believed that anyone would ever love someone like him? After everything he had ever done, he was never allowed to be loved. You had proved that somehow.

'Mr. Laufeyson, you are needed for a meeting with the team'

Breaking from his little bubble. He sighed finally returning back to reality, into the little comforts the library could give him. The week had been gruelling for him, three individual witnessed the altercation between himself and you. It had spread like wildfire, but thanking the Gods that no one was able to listen to the conversation.

He had to endure most of the questioning. In everyone's eyes, he was, after all, still under everyone's constant scrutiny. A man that no one could trust. But he refused to say a single word knowing you did the same thing. It was better to keep your mouth shut instead of letting people know exactly what had happened. Somehow that brought a smile on his face. He might not share a future with you, but might as well make the most out of making your life a living hell, as much you did it to him.

Shutting the book he was barely even reading, he placed the book back into the shelf before walking his way towards the meeting room.

He could easily teleport, but he preferred to enjoy his moments of peace without his oaf of a brother breathing down his neck or Stark constantly testing his patience with his quips. It also gave him a moment to school his features, he knew well enough about the mission to know you would also be in attendance. Be more invested in this mission than anyone else.

It was a few things he was relearning about you now that you were out in the open as everyone claims you to be. You were a free spirited being that could meld with anyone you were in the area with. He had watched you throw relentless jabs at Tony during your first few days that had the man surprisingly raise a white flag. But the most dangerous thing he had to learn was the familial relationship you had with one Natasha Romanoff and Clint Burton, two people that he kept his distance with the most.

"Professor Snape has finally graced us with his presence."

Loki has learned since joining the team to choose his battle when it comes to Tony. This was one of those moment. Finding a vacant chair besides his brother, he had taken his seat. A big mistake on his part as he finds from across the table, you sat. In between a glaring Romanoff and Barton.

Wearing a smirk, just to get on the two super spies' nerve, he turned his attention right back into the meeting. He begins formulating a few little schemes to not only get on the two's nerved, but most especially yours.

#loki laufeyson oneshot #loki laufeyson one shot #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson imagines #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki one shot #loki oneshot #loki imagines #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki x you #loki angst #loki fluff #sucker for pain

[polyamorousmisanthrope]

📷I took five minutes to vacuum my closet the other day. It was part of my routine cleaning, no big deal. It was just a quick thing to check off on my cleaning list. I removed some boxes of stuff in the bottom, a few pairs of slippers, and vacuumed. I replaced the stuff and went on with my---

No. I didn't.

No, I looked at the bottom of the closet in a state of shock and burst out laughing.

I have spent a large portion of my life trying to get organized. When I was a child, "cleaning my room" really did mean tossing everything I could think of where to put it in a closet so that it looked tidy when Mom poked her head in. I was the child with the cubby under the desk in grade school so stuffed with papers and junk that it was simply impossible to add or find anything.

This level of disorganization bothered and embarrassed me. It really hurt and made me feel like a failure.

As a teenager, my backpack also became a mess of papers, random items, books, and paraphernalia (no, not that kind. In many ways, I was hopelessly square)

As an adult, it wasn't much better. My desk was full of bills to be paid, papers I didn't want to face, things that were vaguely sentimental but not enough to display anywhere. My closet?

That was still the place where I hid stuff I didn't have a place for but wanted the room at least to appear a little tidy.

How long from a stuffed closet to a tidy closet?

It took about thirty years.

I wasted a lot of that time, though. I addressed it in cycles. "Starting now, I'm finally going to get organized!" I'd spend several hours a day over a few weeks cleaning, organizing, and playing possessions Tetris with my home. After a month or so, know what? The house would look great!

Then, inevitably, the house would no longer look great. I'd clean the kitchen well enough to prevent food poisoning, but more than that? Not so much.

Ever done that? C'mon, it's okay. We all have.

Being tidy over time is all about consistent action.

You can, indeed, get the house clean with heroic effort, just as you can work really hard to train for an athletic event.

The problem comes in when you do something intense for a short period. As I mentioned in my last post, heroic effort is unsustainable.

Several of my favorite housekeeping systems (Flylady and Unfuck Your Habitat) talk about starting very small – shining your sink or making your bed. They are so right!

It's not about getting tidied or organized quickly. It's about developing consistent habits. For a lot of people, that's enough.

But for some…

Executive dysfunction can interfere with consistency.

If you have organizational or distraction issues, habits may not be enough. Autism, ADHD, and a host of other neurodivergent issues centered around executive dysfunction make it hard to do things that seem pretty obvious to the neurotypical person. What? You need to wash the dishes after a meal? No kidding. Go do it!

As I was writing this article, I broke for dinner. Guess what is in my sink right now?

I thought about it, got up, scrubbed the pan a little, realized it needed to soak some more, and sat back down here to write. Sure, sure, I'll get to it after I finish this, no biggie. But if my sink was full of dishes other than that pan, if I had laundry on my sofa, a desk drawer full of unaddressed bills, and my phone beeping that I needed to get up and get my car to the garage to get the brakes done, would I be getting back to that pan in any reasonable amount of time?

*Hollow laugh*

People with executive dysfunction issues can find their problems painful.

Maybe some people laugh and think it's cute to be disorganized. It never felt cute to me. It hurt because I had a hard time doing what I wanted to do. I was utterly desperate to get my life under control. Completely and utterly desperate from the time I was nine years old. That's a heavy load.

Jokes about executive dysfunction aren't cute.

I know the whole "squirrel!" joke about distractibility is mean to make people feel better and okay with themselves. I never wanted to be okay with chaos. I wanted the chaos to stop. It hurt. It interfered with accomplishing what I wanted to. It was exhausting. It used up time I wanted to spend on other things. I wanted a clean canvas so that when I jumped from obsession to obsession to obsession, I could feel like I was using that time intelligently rather than as a distraction from things that were bothering me.

Late fees, court cases, and lost jobs aren't cute, either.

There's an ADHD vlogger that I really like named Jessica McCabe. She's brilliant and adorable, and being a little bit of the manic pixie thing is part of her brand. It gets people to listen to broad issues of executive dysfunction. People will accept and listen to that stuff sometimes and find it palatable if someone is small and young and cute. (She's a LOT older than her looks or mannerisms would indicate, by the way).

So, the brilliant part. Quite sure McCabe knows what she's doing with that because sometimes she drops the adorable thing. The pain of being disorganized or having a hard time directing attention is very, very clear. If she weren't so cute, it would be unlikely as many people would listen to the important things she is saying. There's more to her than cute by a long shot. (And don't get me started on the sexism of it).

But that whole "cute" thing about disorganization. It's not so cute when unpaid bills land you in court. That has happened to me. With money in the BANK, that has happened to me! (Or without money. *shrugs* That, too). It's not cute when you have to buy a car at interest rates that are close to what you'd pay on a credit card. Yeah, that's happened, too. That we're in good financial shape now is a miracle.

There is a cultural narrative of *giggle* *giggle* "I'm so distractable!" to try to ameliorate the pain of being disorganized. Know what? It's not funny. It hurts.

Proscriptive solutions won't work.

I use a Bullet Journal just about with the out-of-the-box method that Ryder Carrol posted in that first video he did about it. I tried it, and it clicked.

Know what wouldn't have clicked? Someone making me do it when I was fifteen.

This is where you, if you have problems with executive dysfunction, might wonder if I can provide an answer for you. Know what? I can't.

I can say, "You need a Bullet Journal." I mean, I'll think it. I wouldn't say it. Know why? It won't necessarily work for you.

What I will say is that you need to find methods that work for you.

"Okay, smartybrat," I hear you cry, "if you can't offer a solution, what do I do?"

Create systems that support you

This is going to look different depending on how you think. Does a beepy reminder go bing! and prompt you to do stuff? Do you like to have a menu of tasks that you choose from depending on how easily they grab your attention in the moment?

What primes you to take action?

What plans have you followed through on (c'mon, you do have some if you're alive past 20), and what about them made you feel good?

My husband doesn't use a Bullet Journal. He plans his day using a calendar app. If there's an interrupt to a task, he'll move it to another free time. When you first try this, I strongly encourage you to multiply your estimation of task time by at least four until you get good at estimating how long something will take. If you have executive dysfunction issues you're struggling with, I'd bet at least a nickel that you're not good at estimating how long things take yet.

What stops you from taking action? Can you remove the interrupts?

A simple example would be to take the dirty clothes hamper's lid off if that's enough to discourage you from tossing your clothes in the hamper. Still, I'm not talking about "Tips 'n Tricks" here. I hate tips 'n tricks! They're like taking a Tylenol when you cut off your leg. You need to extrapolate that to life systems to support how you want to live.

Your system is useless until you define "good enough."

I could skip the next two or three times I need to vacuum my closet, and I wouldn't care. If I get to it every year or so, it's absolutely good enough. "Good enough" means I address my paperwork file once a week and clear it out. I don't have to do it every day unless I feel like it. "Good enough" is walking for five minutes on the hour around my living room until I get my 10,000 steps in. I don't have to walk for three miles unless I want to. "Good enough" is spreading up the bed and tossing the shams at the head. I don't have to bounce a quarter off the damn thing unless I get a wild hare to do that sometimes. Don't give yourself an image of perfection you have to attain, or you'll do nothing.

It's okay for "good enough" to change

Remember how it took thirty years to get to vacuuming a closet? There was a time when that chore wasn't on the "good enough" list, and ya know what? That's fine. Have your "good enough" be slightly, but only slightly, ahead of what you're currently doing if you want to make improvements. Incremental improvements over time, and I mean decades, are pretty dramatic when you look back.

Good enough can stay good enough

My exercise parameters have me getting in an average of 10,000 steps a day as measured over a month. That is never going to change. If the Spirit moves me, I'll do more. But I'm not going to keep raising the bar over and over and over. This is it. I'm good. I'm maintaining.

It takes decades to get your life in order. What small thing will you do today?

#executive dysfunction #adhd

[fangirlspammer]

Journey to the Past pt.3

This took awhile to write, but I'm pretty happy with it. I hope you are enjoying this😌

You had been pacing around your living room for half an hour now. Jack was still not home after that blowout back in her office nearly two hours ago. You knew she had work to do and probably needed to cool down before coming over, if she was still coming over. You had showered and made dinner, but still there was no sign of Jack not even a text. Just as you thought about giving up the door opened and you turned to face Jack.

"Jack," you stopped as she held up her hand and you couldn't read her expression. Was she upset with you? Had something happened in the case? Had Gibbs made things worse? All of these questions flooding your mind only made you more anxious.

Jack sighed and set down her coat and purse. "We need to talk," her voice sent chills down your spine and your stomach turned. Nothing good ever came from that sentence in a relationship.

"I shouldn't have called him out like that. It wasn't appropriate," you stepped in quickly.

"No, it wasn't, but that's not what we need to talk about," she shook her head and patted the seat beside her on the sofa.

You looked to her with a certain fear in your eyes, cautiously proceeding to her side. As you sat you looked at your hands that were fiddling in your lap. "Jack, baby, you're really starting to freak me out. Is this about us?"

Jack noticed the fear exuding from you and took your hand. "No! No, god no," she shook her head quickly. "I love you, Y/N," you felt yourself smile as she carried on. "I just needed to clear things up. Gibbs didn't end things with me," she sighed and ran her free hand through her hair.

You furrowed your brow as you listened to her. "I don't understand."

Jack began to chew her lower lip and get antsy in her seat. "Gibbs and I weren't a thing for a long time, despite what his team says," she started and stood up. Now she was the one who was pacing the room. "We flirted and spent a lot of time together, yes," she turned to face you and sighed. "One night, after things were starting to get serious, we found ourselves.." she squinted her eyes and tilted her head a bit, unsure how to phrase this. You nodded and she carried on, leaving you with the unsettling images of your girlfriend and your boss in bed together. "The next morning I told him things weren't going to work because I liked somebody else," she finally took a seat again and put her head in her hands.

You're eyes widened in realization of what she was getting at. "You mean you left him for me?"

Jack nodded, but retracted her response. "It wasn't me leaving him, Y/N. We weren't a couple."

"But you slept together," she nodded and you sighed. "He thinks it's my fault."

"No," Jack moved closer and pushed your hair from your face. "I talked to him tonight, and he knows where my head was at now. He's sorry for how he's treated you these past months."

You scoffed and rolled youreyes. "Gibbs apologized?" You couldn't help your skepticism on the subject. Special Agent, Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not one to apologise. He was barely one to stick around for a full conversation.

"Maybe not in so many words, but I know he is sorry," Jack laughed and you rolled your eyes with a little smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

She leaned in to kiss your cheek, brushing her lips over it a few times before proceeding to your jawline. This lasted awhile before she captured your lips in a series of hungry kisses. Your stomach did flips and your heart raced at her touch. Your hand slid up her thigh and found its way behind her back. Nothing had ever felt as good as it did when Jack was in your arms.

"I made dinner," you whispered as you both pulled away for air. She arched her brow and you laughed at the cautious look that spread across her face. "I know, I know. We might have to order in."

"I'll eat whatever you made," she smirked and pushed loose strands of hair from your face. Her deep brown eyes glossed over with love and lust.

You found yourself unable to speak for a few moments, getting lost in Jack completely. You couldn't explain the feelings that arose inside of you whenever she was around, and when she was as close as she was now all hell broke loose within you. You shook your head of your devious thoughts before clearing your throat and letting out a soft laugh. "I won't make you do that to yourself. My cooking will probably put you up for a week," you laughed with more amusement in your tone.

Jack rolled her eyes and let out a sound that you swore sounded like an angel singing. "I'll risk it," she leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your ruby lips once more. "Who knows, maybe I can have you for dessert?"

You felt your cheeks get hot and swore your face was the shade of a tomato. You absolutely loved when Jack was playful like this with you. "Maybe," you smirked and kissed her lips once more. "Maybe I'll even let you have seconds."

Soft giggles filled the room and you both found yourselves lost in yet another series of desperate kisses. Neither of you were ever able to keep your hands off of each other. Honestly you were amazed that you had managed to stay mostly professional at work. At least to the publics eyes you were.

*

*

Jack couldn't remember a longer 'hump day' in her life. The murder of Lieutenant Abigail Finnley was going on its third day of being unsolved. William Jenson was still a suspect even though NCIS had to release him due to lack of evidence, and Jack could only imagine the smug look he must of had on his face as he walked out. She had been over the files at least five times that morning alone, but she was getting nowhere. She tossed her pencil across the room in frustration just as the door open. She looked up and saw Gibbs standing there surprised after having to dodge a flying pencil.

"Have a new file for you," he walked in and shut the door behind him. He held out yet another boring beige folder and she took it with frustration.

"Just what I need. Another file to go over that'll lead me nowhere," she rolled her tired brown eyes, unamused.

Gibbs couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw the frustration written all over her. "Lesley Hangman, Lieutenant Finnley's best friend," he stated plainly.

Jack was flipping through the files now and looked up at Gibbs suddenly. "We already questioned her. Did you find something else?"

"Finnley filled a restraining order against her the week before she died."

Jack was intrigued. She adjusted her glasses and sat forward with curiosity. "Now why would you file a restraining order against your best friend?"

Gibbs shrugged. "That's where you come in, Jack," he sighed and started to leave, but he stopped at the door. "Y/N-"

Jack arched a brow and gave a little nod. "She'll be on her best behavior tomorrow," she assured him.

"Not what I was asking, Jack."

"I know," their eyes locked for a moment before she sighed, giving into his silent questions. "I told her everything, and we are fine." Gibbs nodded and just like that Jack was left to her own devices once again.

Jack looked down as her phone made a noise. A smile crossed her lips as she read the text.

Chinese takeout tonight. Any movie requests? (:

Surprise me baby. Can't wait to see you;) -J

*

*

You chuckled at the text you just received and licked the cookie dough off of the spatula. You began to wipe the counter and do the dishes as the cookies baked, filling the room with a rich sweetness. There was not much to do being stuck at home but cook and clean, and try not to focus too negatively on yesterday's events. You sighed and turned your music up to drown out your thoughts. You began to dance and hum to yourself. Jack would be home soon and you wanted her to enjoy the evening. This case was too personal for her, and you knew that the last thing she would want was to think about it all. The door opened, but you didn't hear it. You were too busy singing along to the music into a wooden spoon. Your hips swayed and you tossed you hair. A loud screech escaped your lips as you felt arms wrap around you from behind.

"Jack! I didn't even hear you come in," you tried to catch your breath as you turned in her arms. She chuckled and pecked your lips. "I wasn't expecting you so soon."

"We wrapped the case," she shrugged and kissed your nose again, giggling. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you. You just looked so sexy I couldn't resist."

You rolled your eyes and smirked. She had an excuse for everything. Your brows furrowed when you realized what she had said. "You wrapped the case? Was it-"

Jack shook her head and sighed. "No, it wasn't Jenson. Turns out it was the best friend, Lesley Hangman. She and Finnley were more than friends, but when Finnley broke things off Lesley became obsessed with trying to get her back."

"And that's when Lieutenant Finnley filed the restraining order?" Your knowledge sparked Jack's curiosity and you giggled. "Bishop might have filled me in on a few details earlier."

Jack rolled her eyes and continued. "Yes, well Lesley came over to confront Abigail and things got heated. That's when she stabbed her," she sighed and let her body relax against yours, pressed against the counter. Your arms instinctively wrapped around her.

"Sounds like you need to put your feet up," you breathed out as she pressed against you. Your heart was racing. The things this woman did to you.

"Way up," she smirked playfully causing you groan.

She leaned closer, kissing along your jawline before dipping down to the curve of your collarbone. Your head tilted back instinctively and you swallowed hard. Your grip on the counter tightened as her lips trailed down your chest, but quickly made their way back to your neck. You could feel your legs getting shaky, and she must have too because her leg pushed in between yours and her hips held you in position. You let out another groan, this one more desperate than the last. You took a deep breath, but her scent was intoxicating.

Your hands ran up her back until they found their way into her beautifully, blonde, beach curls, and gave them a gentle tug. She gasped and looked into your eyes before you leaned forward to capture her lips in a heated frenzy of passion. You both wasted no time finding your way into each other's mouths, fighting for dominance, and before you knew it Jack was leading you to the bedroom. You didn't stop her as she kicked the door shut and laid you on the bed. All previous plans were out the window, and your focus was on the beautiful, half naked blonde straddling you now and kissing down your body.

"Y/N," Jack's voice was low and seductive as she inches closer to your thighs.

Her fingers latched under your panty line, but you pulled her back up to you and quickly flipped her over. "Jack," you groaned again. Her hands were pinned to the mattress as our straddled her now and dipped your head to kiss her passionately. "This is about you," you whispered and smirked. She let out that giggle that sent shivers up your spine. Your lips found hers again, and soon the room filled with soft moans and breathless panting. If only everyday could be this way.

#ncis #jack sloane x reader #mark harmon #gibbs #maria bello #jacqueline sloane #jack sloane #jaqueline sloane #agent gibbs #agent sloane #special agent Jacqueline sloane

[ohliviuh]

𝚒’𝚍  𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙  𝚊𝚗  𝚎𝚢𝚎  𝚘𝚗  𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖  ;   that  there  is  OLIVIA HERNANDEZ  ,  notorious  for  being  (  disruptive  )  and  (  contemptuous  )  ,  but  there  are  times  when  she  can  be  (  empathetic  )  and  (  ambitious  )  .   i've  heard  that  she  could  pass  as  a  SOFIA CARSON  doppelganger  ,  but  i  don't  see  it  .   the  (  twenty seven )  year - old  female has  been  in  town  for  (  twenty six years  )  and  they  are  a  (  junior detective  )  by  day  and  murder  suspect  by  night  .   they  tend  to  spark  images  of  squeaky  clean  police  badge  ,  worn  leather  jackets  ,  tattered  notepad  full  of  scribbles  and  theories  ,  fireplaces  ,  the  feeling  of  wanting  to  burst  into  tears   when  something  goes  wrong  ,  tears  pooling  in  eyes  whenever  rage  starts  to  build  ,  clenched  fists   .   you’ll  know  when  they  walk  by  because  they  always  seem  to  be  blasting  safaera  by  BAD BUNNY .   it  truly  explains  why  they're  known  as  THE  ADVOCATE  .

LET’S JUMP RIGHT IN !

Olivia  Hernandez   is  best  known  for  being  the  young  rookie  cop  that  screamed  innocent  ,  even  when  everyone  rolled  their  eyes  and  struggled  to  stifle  her  insistent  pleas  .   she  was  the   convicted  killer's  younger  sister  and  you’d  be  damned  if  you  forgot  as  much  .  not  that  she  really  let  you  ,  especially  since  she  was  so  determined  to  fight  against  the  obvious  .   like  come  on  child  ,  he  did  it  .  right  ?  That's  what  everyone  was  certain  of  until  recently  .  back  when  he  was  accused  it  seemed  like  an  open  and  shut  case  ,  he  had  prior  convictions  that  racked  up  perfectly  including  aggravated  assault  ,  firearm  possession  and  public  indecency  .  .  .  but  now  it  just  didn’t  seem  as  compelling  as  it  did  back  then  . 

Olivia  was  7  when  the  murder  happened  and  she  never  really  believed  her  brother  had  anything  to  do  with  it  .  sure  ,  she  was  just   a  kid  but  she  could  see  past  the  brave  facade  her  brother  had  put  up  and  recognize  he  was  just  a  kid  that  had  been  wrapped  up  in  the  wrong  crowd  for  far  too  long  and  was  now  facing  the  consequences  .  their  mother  always  used  to  go  around  saying  ‘  dime  con  quien  andas  y  te  dire  quien  eres  ‘  which  roughly  translated  to  you  are  who  you  hang  out  with  .  she  was  torn  apart  by  her  sons  conviction  and  ultimately  passed  before  justice  was  served  so  she  never  got  to  see  her  son  walk  out  as   a  free  man  again  . 

Growing  up   was  hard  for  Olivia  because  wherever  she  went  she  was  judged  immediately  .  it  wasn’t  enough  for  everyone  that  she  was  already  ostracized  because  she  was  a  young  latina  ,  daughter  of  immigrants  and  well  not  living  in  the  best  part  of  the  city  .  No  ,  let’s  add ‘  sister  to  convicted  murderer ‘  to  that  list  .  But  she  was  determined  to  make  her  way  and  help  her  brother  ,  who  still  maintained  his  innocence  whenever  she  went  to  visit  him  .  The  young  girl  stumbled  between  emotions  ,  sometimes  enraged  that  she  had  to  face  the  world  alone  after  her  mother died  ,  her  father  abandoned  her  and  her  brother  was  stuck  behind  bars  ,  rage  directed  at  Antonio  for  getting  himself  mixed  up  in  all  of  this  ,  impotence  regarding  the  miscarriage  of  justice  .  .  .  but  mainly  she  felt  hope  and  faith  in  the  fact  that  everything  was  going  to  work  out  because  she  would  make  it  so  . 

Even  though  she’s  had  a  rough  time  ,  after  twenty  years  of  hard  work  she’s  begun  to  find  her  footing  at  Taunwick  and  can   even  say  she  finally  feels  comfortable  in  her  home  .  People  have  grown  to  distinguish  her  from  her  brother  ,  because  she’s  worked  hard  to  do  so  .  Where  Antonio  would  have  spent  his  Friday  nights  searching  for  happiness  at  the  bottom  of  tequila  bottles  ,  Olivia  spent  her  time  volunteering  around  town  or  studying  .  You  will  always  find  a  smile  gently  stretched  across  her  lips  ,  even  if  she  has  some  difficulty  making  the  emotion  reach  her  hazel  eyes  . 

She’s never really spoken to any of Chastity’s friends or family even though she has made a point to stay on top of the news regarding the murder. She doesn’t want to impose and understands the emotions they must have experienced when losing her, afterall she did lose her brother in the ordeal as well, but just because she doesn’t interact with them doesn’t mean she hasn’t done her fair share of digging. She’s worked her ass off as a rookie cop, finally moving up the ladder as a junior detective 2 years ago. She still doesn’t have access to big sensitive cases, especially not her brother's case as she is a conflict of interest but she’s flirted her way past some red tape and does currently have a case file in her home where she has collected information about Chastity and her close friends. She will not admit this to anyone though and it is most likely very illegal.

** Her brother, Antonio Hernandez, is the convicted killer. This  has  very  literally  shaped  who  she  is  ,  not  only  because  she  wants  to  help  her  brother  shake  his  conviction  but  because  she  has  had  to  alter  her  personality  to  be  less  intimidating  ,  less commanding  ,  to  seem  harmless  because  when  they  hear  her  last  name  the  first  thing  they  think  of  is  the  life  of  a  wonderful  girl  that  was  lost  .  since  she  firmly  believes  the  killer  is  still  at  large  ,  she  has  trouble  trusting  strangers  .

POSSIBLE PLOTS / CONNECTIONS !

I would definitely love to have some animosity brewing with some of the skeletons because after all, her brother was considered the killer for over a decade and I would assume these people do not want to believe he isn’t guilty especially that quickly? I would imagine people are mad at her for maintaining his innocence for so long, because she was so young when it happened.

Along those lines I would love for someone to actually start a friendship with her, maybe because they want to know what she knows about her brother or because she is currently working as a detective. They think she knows something when in reality she doesn't. 

Find her Pinterest HERE !

#taun.intro

[pencopanko]

Printer Panic (A Coco Teacher AU Fanfic)

((WARNING: This fanfic contains graphic description of animal body horror. If you're sensitive to stuff like that you may proceed to scroll down and ignore this post))

------

"What do you mean you still can't print anything? Shouldn't the printer be functioning?", asked Eliseo as he looked at his frustrated roommate who was standing in front of the printer. The printer was just recently refilled and it had been functioning properly. At least until last Tuesday as for some reason there had been more and more paper jams.

"I don't know, it's just-ugh why is it still stuck?!", groaned Héctor as he was contemplating on whether he should throw the printer out the window and replace it with a typewriter or something. His next class was in forty-five minutes and he hadn't printed out the assignment he spent the whole night on and how nice would it be if the damn machine would start working for once.

Eliseo approached his tall friend to see what he could help him with. The paper seemed to be stuck again -- a common occurrence these past few days.

Which was weird considering how everyone had made sure their paper was nice and smooth, void of any folds before printing most of the time.

"Eli, can't we just get a new one? That thing IS a hand-me-down from Derrick's brother. And it's old as hell, the more reason to get a new one", said Charlie.

"Why would you want to spend that much money? This thing IS functioning. It's probably just another paper jam", retorted Eliseo as his frustration grew.

"Yeah, but if it keeps acting up like this then what's the point of keeping this printer?"

"I am NOT spending anymore money for some printer! Besides, I'm sure we can fix it again"

"Look, I appreciate your effort in order for us to save money bu-"

"¡Oye, it's working!"

The three of them let out a chorus of relieved sighs as the printer let out noises that were supposed to come out from the machine. They hopefully gazed at the machine as a portion of the paper finally showed its face to the world, with lines of words in crisp, black ink printed on it.

Followed by what looked like blood stains ("Wait, but there are no images in the file"). And before they knew it, they were face to face with a gecko's head followed by its squished-up body.

Poor Mr. Bridges next door nearly spilled his steaming hot tea as a chorus of horrified screams and swear words, both in English and Spanish, could be heard from flat A-302. Out of panic and worry, he rushed out of his apartment to check on the university students who lived in that flat. After he was greeted by the Asian student whose expression was almost unreadable (and whose name had completely escaped him. Was it Dae-hyun?), he was welcomed by a really strange sight: three young men huddled up on a couch, each with a different horrified look on their faces, and they were looking at the same object which was a printer. He didn't realize what was making them act like that until he took a good look.

Needless to say, four men were absolutely horrified and Héctor Rivera could not look at a printer without a certain image popping up in his head for the next few days.

------

"So, then, what happened?", asked Miguel as he looked up at the older man. They were taking a break after practicing a new song for a whole hour that Friday night and Héctor decided to tell Miguel some stories from his university days.

"Long story short, we had the printer cleaned up from the icky stuff and we got it functioning again," replied Héctor. "But," he added with a grin, "Charlie was so traumatized he absolutely REFUSED to go near the printer for nearly a whole month".

Miguel chuckled a bit at the thought of an American man being scared of a printer. It sounded so silly, even for an eight-year-old like himself. But, then again, he was now living with a godfather who often pretended that he wasn't scared of spiders. Héctor didn't realize it but Miguel knew better.

The boy then made a mental note to keep that rubber spider Alejandro gave to him safe in his drawer by the bed. Though he would be lying if he said that he wouldn't want to hear his tío scream like a girl at the sight of it.

------

Author's note: This was based on a real life event that happened when I was in high school. The printer at our old house kept experiencing paper jams for the last couple of days and my sister and I were getting frustrated. So my mom decided to take a look at it (a true jack-of-all-trades, she is) and told us to try again after that.

I think it's safe to say that you can guess what happened after that. But the difference was my sister and I were so horrified we ran to the living room.

Anyway, I hope you like this little drabble!

Lots of love,

Penco

#coco pixar #coco teacher au #profe héctor's days in america #héctor rivera #miguel rivera #penco writes #yupyupyup #coco au #tw: sensitive content #tw: body horror