#responsive applications

[rajaniesh]

Scaling Azure Container Apps for Peak Performance

In our last blog, we dove into optimizing deployments with Azure Pipelines, covering strategies for choosing the right agents and securing environment variables to ensure smooth, reliable updates. Now, let’s take things a step further. Once you’ve streamlined your deployment pipeline, the next challenge is making sure your Azure Container Apps can easily handle fluctuating demands. In this final…

[itsmetheabnormalone]

Saw someone say on twitter „luke experienced subdrop and needed aftercare“ and I haven’t stopped thinking about this video/interview/comment bc I REALLY hope the producers are aware how much their actors are doing for this show and are taking proper care of them (e.g. having competent intimacy coordinators).

[thatgaywizardoverthere]

Arthur “Disaster Bi” Pendragon learning about true loves kiss as a cure like:

Gwaine: For fuck’s sake, he’s not enchanted every time he smiles at someone else, Arthur! He was literally just laughing at my joke!

Arthur, aggressively frenching Merlin on the council room floor: YOU CAN NEVER BE TOO CAREFUL OKAY-

[green-aeggs-and-spam]

ASOIAF fandom try not to call teenage girls evil and irredeemable challenge (impossible)

[twist3dserenity]

question to all Proshippers/darkshippers/comshippers, etc…

hello, I decided that now is the time to educate myself further in this controversial topic. Before I say anything, I am not a proshipper in the slightest, but I do enjoy gruesome, disturbing content and media.

My question to all those under the proshipping umbrella are as follows.

What does proshipping (other associated label) mean to you? What do you think proshipping means/is about?

(If comfortable going into detail) why do you believe in this label / What lead you to this belief?

did you use to be an anti? How did the controversy surrounding this belief affect you personally?

and finally

4. Has being a proshipper positively affected your life? Of so, how?

before you get clicking, I do want to address some things. Feel free to respond to this via, DMs, comments or Reblogs! Anything is appreciated! I also want to state that I’m trying to be a very open-minded individual. I do not want to ridicule or criticize you. I only desire to understand you all instead of listening to those who clearly aren’t apart of this community and lack the maturity and understanding like I have.

I also am very much comfortable having discussions about this topic in detail if desired. Don’t be afraid to reach out.

I hope everyone fairs well! Good luck on your endeavors and I appreciate you all for reading this far.

[mangofresca]

halcyon | 18+

Romano feels like he’s dancing in his sleep, that shifting, swaying motion like waves across the beach and toes dragging through sand, like water and rhythm pulling his chest high, his shoulders low, stretching out his hips, his knees, his ankles. The soft cotton of his pillowcase scratches and tickles at his cheekbone when he turns his head into it, wisping itself against his clavicle, and he sighs against it, lets it swallow his breath the same way it swallows the heat of his body, an echo of warmed contentment and easy dreaming.

The mattress beneath him dips, and he almost pushes away the palm that slides across his stomach, his sternum, but it’s warm, too, and Romano always liked being warm, and he liked being warm beneath this hand even more. He leans into it, instead, keeps his eyes closed, and he makes a small noise that’s half deliberate and half desultory—because he does mean to acknowledge Spain, but he doesn’t mean to acknowledge him like a cat waking from a nap in lazy, dozy sunbeams, purring.

But that’s fine. That’s fine. He knows Romano sometimes sounds like that when he’s waking, and even not, just sometimes when he’s beneath the pads of Spain’s fingers, and Romano feels fine when the mattress dips again and Spain hovers over him, knees sweetly nudging his apart.

Romano keeps his eyes closed when lips skim his jaw, keeps himself ensconced in the soft sunlight that shines itself across his eyelids. It’s good like this, he thinks. It’s nice. He can hear himself breathe with an awareness he never really has when he’s around Spain, always too preoccupied with other things, irrelevant things—what he’s doing, what he’s not, what he could be doing to Spain, instead. He likes being conscious of it, of his body and his reactions, and he sighs again when that palm moves to his side, his rib cage and lower, fingers skimming over his thigh as they drag heated sheets down, away.

There’s a laugh twinkling in his ear, something bright and charmed, and his skin pricks with cognizance when he feels the breath of it, lips curving into a smile against his cheek. “Awake yet?”

Spain speaks his vowels in a whisper, his consonants always catching on the tip of his tongue, and Romano’s shoulder shifts back in a shiver, presses into the bed when soft breeze meets skin, humid and carrying the smell of midmorning sunrise.

He makes a noise again, some groaned mhm that rumbles itself up his chest and out his throat, that gets lost somewhere around his lips when the heat of Spain’s laughter leaves his cheek and instead drifts across his nipple—and the gasp that leaves him is a surprised one.

He feels stupid like this, naïve, foolish, as if he isn’t war- and weather-worn, born and raised in the echoing, thundered footsteps of the Roman Empire, older than the New World and older still, as if his own sand dunes aren’t his brothers, the rolling fields his sisters. But this is his life now: homes across his country and Spain’s, furnished with soft beds and yellow kitchens and flowing curtains that always let the light in, because neither of them ever really do well when away from the sun, too used to its bite to go without for longer than a day, two. He wakes, now, to sheets that settle across the curves of his body, to someone in his bed, wiggling his legs until they settle around tanned hips, to sea-chapped lips that hum the song of his name until he is something melodious, made of more than sinew and sand, of memory.

Spain whispers his name, a question carried softly through balmy air and that sounds so fucking in love Romano almost opens his eyes, almost gives into the needling whine of it—

But Spain always did his best work when given a task, and Romano knows Spain has no qualms about being set to work on Romano, no end to the things he would let Spain do to him, and though his mouth goes dry as Spain nips at his throat and presses a finger against him, he can only find the energy to laugh, just dry air, enough to breathe Spain in, too.

When Spain dips down and kisses him, Romano kicks the sheets up and over Spain’s back. They are still warm, and so is he.

[claudiadpdl]

fucking hate that i have to do this again but i was recently forced to get a vehicle replacement and the $566 monthly bill is kicking my ass on top of everything else. i need $80 so that i can fill my tank up and buy a few groceries to fill in the gap between now and thursday when i get paid. anything helps and rb'ing this post is just as important, tysm!!

[bump1nthen1ght]

Only halfway through kinktober and I'm already at 24k words and 48 pages....the amount of smut I'm about to unleash is simply catastrophic

[ghostsprobably]

all i want to do is work on my winx stuff

but fuck

i forgot i have depression

[rivilu]

One side effect of the autistic sense of justice for me is going insane over justice and vengeance as concepts in themselves whenever applicable in media.

Which unfortunately means that thinking about justice dragon age for too long (especially with the post inq takes on spirits) makes me want to rip my hair out.

[scribefindegil]

once again mad about how applying for disability is like "oh you're too sick to complete tasks? complete this long string of extremely complex tasks. if you don't do it perfectly we will reject you. if you *do* do it perfectly we will probably still reject you. you can expect to hear back from us in between one and three business years. what are you supposed to do in the meantime? idk not our problem."

[nakanotamu]

Trying to talk to a therapist about confidence issues is the dumbest shit they'll be like "to build confidence you just need to have good experiences to build upon and reinforce it! ^-^" and you're like okay but. How do you have those good experiences without confidence and they're like "you just need to be confident and try! ^-^" and you're like 😐

[theodditylacey]

guess who submitted their musical theatre audition

[marigoidz]

Got into the school I was most anticipating which is pretty great I have to say

[yolkchild]

But it's kind of like living in a small small town. Same faces every day, same animosity, you get a little disillusioned. I wouldn't say I'm over it, but I come here way less than I already did. Everyone I like is busy creating their own things, or moved on I assume, and that's better than a constant stream of slop.