#those fuckin cameras

[os2warp]

so we’ve got these terrible security cameras that run off a pci card. the software and hardware is very proprietary and hasn’t been updated in years, to the point it has to have windows xp 32 bit to work. the software also is hardcoded to not be able to export video recorded after december 31 2020.

in an effort to find Something Better, i found drivers for the specific chipset on the card. the drivers are for a tv tuner card, but surprisingly they actually work, and allow me to get video from the pci card into other software, but only on input #1 (the pci card has four composite video inputs) if i put the tv tuner card in “fm tuner” mode, it shows video from input #2

the video is looks like higher quality. or maybe it’s just raw composite video now and the awful dvr program does some kind of terrible compression to it before even showing the live preview

plain simple vidcap32.exe from the windows nt sdk is the only thing ive found that lets me switch the inputs on the card and configure the video source, it’s changes stick though and are retained by other programs, but it still leaves me with only one usable input at a time, and i haven’t found any way to access inputs 3 and 4

no security dvr software i’ve found supports a card with multiple inputs like this. most of them are just as poorly designed. why do they all have their own weird ui with huge shiny buttons instead of using the standard windows interface.

i found one dvr software that had a nearly identical horrible ui to the original, just changed to more modern aesthetics. i thought this might be what the camera manufacturers licensed and slapped their name onto and it might be compatible. it’s not. that company has a similar card available too, but it seems to act as a dongle and without it the dvr software will only work with ip cameras.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

BTS Suga 140830 We Love Gangwon Kpop Concert by Caffeine Suga

https://x.com/caffeinesuga/status/509362894253731841?s=46&t=asovF49c920I4kV74_an0Q

https://x.com/caffeinesuga/status/505671109031641090?s=46&t=asovF49c920I4kV74_an0Q

https://x.com/caffeinesuga/status/513317202045325312?s=46&t=asovF49c920I4kV74_an0Q

https://x.com/caffeinesuga/status/509362319860563968?s=46&t=asovF49c920I4kV74_an0Q

[butchdykekondraki]

people NEED to start headcanoning characters as niche orientations . i need objectum headcanons i need reciproromantic headcanons i need queerplatonic headcanons i need aroallo headcanons I NEED OBJECTUM HEADCANONS

[sebastians-alterhuman-archive]

Reject humanity consume bread

Or something else if you can't have gluten

[doodlboy]

Question: how the fuck do u steal shit from places with those stupid beeping things at the doors

[sarcasrnspasrn]

second day in a row now where my computer's tint has shifted to orange at 10pm on the dot. this sure would be normal if it was night light. night light hasn't worked on my computer for over a year (among other things about my computer that don't work). this morning it didn't turn off unless i restarted my computer. i think it's haunted

[toytulini]

trying to go through the photos on my phone and sort them into dif albums to then have an easier time sorting through each album later and i didnt get em all done tonight, but. i got 10,120 out of 22,488 sorted into separate albums for tonight, i feel like thats not too bad?

[blujayonthewing]

I WANT!! to be a person who does little dnd doodles immediately after sessions and I WANT to be a person who nature journals regularly and I WANT to be a person who brings watercolors to colorado and actually uses them I WANT to do art casually and freely and joyfully as a reflection and extension of being an active participant in the world!!! FUCK!!!!

[os2warp]

ive talked before about the awful security camera system i have to keep running. well for the first time ever, i actually needed to export some video from it today, only to find that i cant because the shitty proprietary video converter has a hardcoded list of years that only goes to 2020 (the last update to the software was made around 2012) so i cant actually select today’s date to export files from.

the database backup program (which looks identical to this) has a hardcoded list that goes up to 2026 so i was able to do that to export the videos i need, but they are in a weird proprietary format im going to have to figure out how to do something with. it’s either that or use the god awful ui to sit through about four hours of video in real time because fast forward just skips ahead 30 seconds at a time and you have to click the button every time to do it.

[yourfourthparent]

you ever forget why you put a song on a character playlist and then you listen to the song again and you're like 'oh i was SO correct about this'

[jiung-s]

inkigayo i hate you so much

[forsworned]

Simon has an OnlyFans. It wasn't something he necessarily kept a secret, but it wasn't something he shouted out on the rooftops for all to hear. Just the primal need for being seen while he fisted at his cock in various poses, most of which were requested by you. You who were an avid fan of his.

You really didn't remember how you found him. Maybe you were just absentmindedly scouring the internet for anything to turn you on while you were in the middle of a solo sesh, but either way, you stumbled upon his page. You wasted no time subscribing to the skull-masked man who humbly accepted your request to use a cock ring with a little ghost charm hanging at the end of it.

And his moans—don't even get me started. They're deep, guttural, sexy, and caveman-like and you're creaming at just the mere sound of it.

Truthfully, Simon doesn't even need the money. His price range only goes as high as $5, and for his VIPs, you get exclusive access to all his behind-the-scenes features, one of which includes all the times he mistakenly shoots his cum at his chin.

But it comes off as a shocker to you when its' one of those nights where no matter how many times you make yourself cum, it's not enough. You crave him. Crave to see the way those half-lidded onyx eyes stare down at the camera as he gets off between missions for a quickie.

It's enticing. He's fully clad in his uniform, but his hard, girthy horse cock is out for display. Green veins pulsate against his porcelain skin at his touch and you're squirming at the vibrating wand you place on your clit.

Ping!

Your in-app message notification pop up and you notice the small badge on the messages icon. Thinking it was merely something promotional, you ignore it, but a second ping disrupts your solo love-making session that has you squinting down at your phone.

Curiously, you tapped on the little envelope, tilting your head at the message before tapping on it again.

TacticalHeat: Hey, lovie. How are you doing? I see you've been enjoying my content for some time now. Would you be interested in a private call?xx

Your heart thrums against your chest as your jaw drops to the floor. There was no fuckin' way this was real. It had to be some chatbot or some sort of impersonator, but sure enough you click on the icon and it leads you straight back to the page you were just rubbin one out to.

"Fuck!" You breathe out, throwing your head back as your orgasm spills out of you. You hadn't even noticed the wand still buzzing against your sopping wet pussy, but it leaves you heaving and ready for the next round.

Your fingers hover over your keyboard and you search your mind to say something. It's not like you had a picture on your profile, nor your name, or even a real description on your bio. It was merely a clipart of Snoopy with headphones on bumping to music, a practical choice.

You: I'm good! I can do maybe tomorrow night?"

For some Godforsaken reason, you didn't want to seem to eager, but for what? You literally were messaging on fucking OnlyFans.

Ping!

Your heart drops to your ass at swiftness and the contents of the message.

TacticalHeat: How about now instead?

Part two is here!! 😜

masterlist

[crowsent]

fuck the crispy hd 1080p quality movies i want somethin that looks like it was shot in the fuckin 90s

[yawnderu]

“I'll give you the dirtiest video you've ever made.” Simon's deep, sultry voice rings in your ears, his rough hands running up and down the length of your back, his muscles twitching beneath your palm as your much smaller hands roam his muscular, strong back.

“Filthy fuckin' girl. Been thinkin' 'bout this for a while.” He confessed, brown eyes narrowing as his pupils dilate, taking in the sight of your barely clothed slutty body straddling his lap, lazily grinding your needy cunt against his hard, meaty cock.

“Seein' that pretty face while you get wrecked... All those disgustin' wankers who watch you are gonna see what a dirty whore y'are.” As if he wasn't a part of the disgusting wankers who watch your content— as if he didn't feel like the luckiest man alive the moment you followed him back and reached out to him.

Simon's breath hitches the moment your long acrylics dig into his back, needy kisses planted all over his pale, scarred face, whiny moans leaving your lips as his pants get wet with your slick, rocking your hips against his boner faster even when the camera isn't even rolling yet.

“Not gonna let you pull out.” You whisper into his ear, not even bothering hiding the sluttiness bleeding out of your tone. Simon has been teasing you for far too long, spamming your phone with pictures that show his pants low enough for you to see the base of his veiny cock, months before he even agreed to meet up.

“I'll be too deep inside you to pull out.” Simon answered right away, his already deep voice growing huskier by the second, his breath hot and slow, heart pounding in his chest, barely even able to think with all the blood rushing down to his fat cock.

“Shoot a fuckin' huge load inside you.” He adds, his heart beating so hard that he could barely hear himself think, only able to focus on the way your cunt keeps rubbing against his clothed cock, calloused hands gripping your hips even tighter against him, his lips crashing against yours with raw need, even when the cameras you set up isn't even recording.

Pornstar!Reader AU — Part I | Part II | Part III

taglist: @gazsdirtysocks @infpt-zylith @love-simon @chrishy973 @just-another-personal-side-blog @ghosmooth-operator @b100dr0t @bisky-business @watersquirtpewpewboomm @li85367 @thenonweeknd @jamesrifftapes @lastofabbyy @xxshadowbabexx @yumimak @cherryblossomandpeace @kodiackwrites @angelaut0matec @fell4fictionalman @winbinw @kenz-ee @bangtandaze @iite-cool @just-pure-trash @syd649 @crybabies-heart

[moyazaika]

tbh jaded lawyer darling trying to save yan crime kingpin from getting his ass thrown into prison for life — yet again.

he’s lingering at the court’s steps, entertaining the news reporters with a dazzling smile, the entire world waiting with bated breath to see whether this is the day his billion dollar criminal empire comes crumbling down—

“the whole world knows you did it!”

“are you ashamed of yourself?”

“do you really think you’ll walk away a free man after today?”

that gets his attention.

“darling, don’t ‘ya worry about me,” he turns to the journalist, and tilts his head to the side, pulling out his lollipop from between those lips, curled in a sly grin. “i ain’t gotta worry ‘bout no fuckin’ laws when i got the world’s best damn lawyer on my side.”

a young man, then. thick glasses and braces on his teeth. far too thin and lanky, for all his balls of steel as he speaks up. “are you implying that your lawyer is an accessory to your crimes? a corrupt lawyer for a guilty man on his way to the gallows?”

he hears you approach before he can think to respond. the familiar, expensive echo of the dress shoes he’d bought you the first time you’d won a case, before you’re there where he thinks you belong; right by his side.

“alleged crimes,” you correct, and your kingpin turns to greet you with a million dollar smile. “now, my client will not be taking any more questions. kindly, fuck off.”

cameras flash instantly and countless more mics are shoved into his pretty face, still mesmerised by you, even when you grab him by the back of his collar (unironed, you notice with absolute dismay) and pull him inside, away from prying eyes.

“you’re being tried for sixteen drug and weapons counts,” you hiss, digging your newly manicured nails into his skin, as you pull the lollipop he’s sucking on right out of his mouth with a wet ‘pop’ and toss it to the side, seething. “when will you fucking get serious!”

he only dumbly stares back at you with a slack jaw, and stars in his eyes. his voice dips an octave lower, deep in his throat when he speaks. “oh, i could get very serious if you wanted to give me a kiss. or, y’know, maybe you could act as a replacement to that sweet lollipop of mine ‘ya just—oh, fuck!”

when you stride into the courtroom later, in your neat, pressed suit and slicked back hair, nobody dares ask why the infamous ‘alleged’ crime lord is following after you with a bruise blossoming on cheeks that flush a deep, deep scarlet.

-

the judge announces the jury's verdict, and you don’t even look up from the documents you’re perusing when he’s found ‘not guilty’ in a court of law, yet again—

“jesus fuckin’ christ, i knew you were gonna save me!” your kingpin jumps up from where he’s sitting besides you, pressing his face into your shoulder as he breathes you in with an elated, shuddering breath. “can’t even imagine which ditch i’d be rottin’ in without ‘ya, sweet pea.”

“excuse me, sir.” you pry his hands off you with a detached air of reservation you reserve for when the two of you are in public, but the way your knuckles are white when you gather the countless files and papers of yours scattered on your desk tell him everything he needs to know about how pissed you are. “hands off.”

he knows he’s in for it when the two of you get home, and yet, he looks forward to the sight.

it’s always more… exciting than it should be; when you’ve got him shoved right up against a well, going off about how ‘irresponsible’ and ‘immature’ he is, nails leaving his skin bleeding from how deep you sink them into his body, too caught up in your own irritation to notice or, honestly, care.

and maybe, he thinks, as he follows you out, tonight he’ll go pay a visit to someone after you’re done with him.

a man’s got needs, y’know?

he’s high off the rush of his latest win when he walks up the porch steps hours later. it's really only the latest achievement in a long line he attributes solely to you and your efforts.

he’ll make sure to repay you one day, with all you’ve done for him. he’ll take such good care of you; let you do whatever you wanted to him, as a token of his appreciation for how hard you've worked to keep him on the streets he rules and out of the prisons he knows he belongs in.

in fact, his efforts start right here and right now; on the steps of a nice, suburban house, that belongs to the journalist with thick glasses and braces and a wiry frame. the white picket fence and 'keep off the grass' sign do little to deter the man outside. then again, the poor bastard could have had gates of iron, and he still would have found a way to creep inside.

he never knew being a journalist paid so well. shit, maybe he should’ve gone down this path instead of, y’know, running a criminal empire. this bastard's got balls of steel, for what he had the nerve to say about you. but it’s okay! hey! he’s here to take care of it for you!

you don’t ever need to find out what he’s done in your name. ♡

he’s very adamant about this, choosing to see the job to completion all alone, slinking away from your critical, watchful gaze—only once he’s made sure you’re knocked out by watching you sleep, crouched by your bedside, for a few hours—to make sure the problem’s all taken care of.

the kingpin rings the doorbell, and patiently waits for the door to open with his scarred hands held behind his back. there’s a glock in his left back pocket, and a silencer in the right. a swiss army knife curled in his fingers, because he’s always been creative.

yeah, can you believe that? his teachers used to tell him he would make a great artist one day. and he is, he likes to think. only that his canvases are a little less traditional, and not in the banksy way. you know how it is! life imitates art... or some hippie shit like that.

there's no rules in art for what you can paint with, right? or what surfaces you can carve up into pretty shapes...

and so, when the lock clicks open, and the handle turns, it’s exactly like he said; a man’s got needs!

so sue him! really, so what if his needs mean his heavy hands are clamping over the journalist’s mouth, twisted into a silent scream—

so what if he knocks the smaller man back, a fist flying to his face, those wide eyes and all, slack jaw stupidly hanging open in disbelief—

so what if he shoves him inside and kicks the door behind them shut?

your kingpin knows what comes with the life he chose, and sullying his name is one thing—but nobody gets to drag your name through the dirt and live.

he makes sure of that, personally.

-

“where did you go last night?” you ask, not taking your eyes off the weekly newspaper in your hands. there, on the front page, a greyscale photo of you and your headache of a client, descending the court’s steps after the verdict. “and why didn’t you ask for my permission before you left?”

the headline, in big, bold letters, splashed above the picture; INTERNATIONAL OUTRAGE AS INFAMOUS DRUG LORD EVADES LAW YET AGAIN. SHADY LAWYER TO BLAME?

“just takin’ out the trash, lovely. don’t you worry ‘yer pretty little mind about it.” as he says that, he abandons his own breakfast, suddenly snatching the paper out of your hands and ripping it up, but not before noting the name of the article’s author, tucking it away for later.

shreds of the weekly paper you hadn't even gotten to read yet fall to the floor, fluttering this way and that. you close your eyes and smile. “haha. funny. well, my ‘pretty little mind’ is telling me to throw the coffee in my hands all over you.”

“tryna mark me up?” he purrs, “if you really wanna wake me up, can i suggest somethin’ else ‘ya could throw at me? or on me, really. but—”

“i’m going to kill you in your sleep, one of these days.” you deadpan, turning back to your food. he’s like a little kid, and you’re not about to indulge him by giving him the attention he so desperately wants from you.

“'yer serious??" he grins, hands flying to his face in elation, a curious blush colouring his skin a deep pink. “you mean you actually wanna step into my bedroom— at night— of 'yer own damn will?“

you take another sip of your coffee, fingers trembling around the cup. don’t throw it at him it’s what he wants don’t throw it at him it’s what he wants don’t throw it at him it’s what—

“damn... guess i should start sleeping naked, then.”

extra; what if darling was a prosecutor instead?