#and their support is useless

[potoman]

How I feel after spending 1h20 minutes on the phone with the worst US bank ever.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

space sweepers but they're delivery people and are at no point on screen through the entire movie

[strongermonster]

one of the funniest news things in canada that always tickles me is the ongoing war between magic mushroom shops and the police.

this is the absolute height of humour to me right now

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

yall wanna know how badly they fucked up my minecraft migration?

while moving some files around to unfuck my storage issues i have discovered that my minecraft authentication lives SOMEWHERE in my local files. on my pc.

as in

if i log in to literally ANY OTHER DEVICE

if I utilize ANY other minecraft launcher (for modded minecraft presets, for example)

it's missing whatever MYSTERIOUS authentication file is in here:

that tells microsoft that yes, I DO have the game key, I DID purchase the game in 2020 legitimately, PLEASE let me play the game as my established fockinorb handle

because if I dont, it logs me in as my default microsoft xbox account and asks me to buy the game.

'mia why don't you just go to your settings when you're logged in as fockinorb and fix that'

oh you mean this???

yeah that takes me to the exact same default ass microsoft xbox account that thinks I don't own the game

that mojang fockinorb account goes nowhere

[lewmagoo]

source

[violeteclipseboaty]

And the way they look at her when she's all done; like yeah okay she did that, let's get rid of the body 🤣🤣🤣

[lone-nyctophile]

It's actually k!lling me to just sit here in the comfort of my home while so many innocent civilians are being killed; and the only thing I can do is boycott certain brands and burn the books of authors who support israel....

P.S. if you support israel, then please unfollow and block me

[petitepatateuwu]

It's way too hot and I am way too tired to do any more efforts, so excuse the critical lack of quality here.

If you didn't know, Cole is my favourite Power Ranger :D

And while I was binge watching Ninjago I had the pleasant surprise to see him physically and mentally traumatized in season 5 😈

And since I'm a huge sucker for angst, my brain immediately thought of developing that idea in order to hurt my beautiful baby boy some more. That and also the fact that my brain immediately looks for logic in the laws of cartoon physics (I really shouldn't do that...)

So I bring you the "Cole is a Ghost Kind-of-Saga". I still have a few more ideas to exploit, notably adressing the ways the other ninjas will help him cope with his new condition :3

And maaaaybeeeee a small comic too 😇

Anyways, I will let my brain rest a bit for now and sleep.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Witness

"Specimen '873 is starting to disappoint me. He was showing such promise. These numbers, however?" My keeper muttered to himself, distaste painting his face as he watched the feed in front of him. "Unacceptable for a battle class. He might as well be spare biomass at this point."

He was supposed to be wearing his glasses, not holding them. They may have been called "reading" glasses? But they were not, technically, just for that. They also had a blue light filter. Helped with headaches and eyestrain. He just hated wearing them because he thought they made him look old.

A God Forbid ANYTHING remind him of the passage of time.

He did NOT take it kindly.

I managed to avoid THAT landmine by virtue of having witnessed his receiving them. An "incident" that resulted in his head slamming against a screen. Protocol demanded he get checked. In the process, they discovered his eye sight was declining. It was a... bad day. I brought him things to break and stayed very, very quiet.

He bounced back fairly quickly, though. Once the arrogant researcher who had arranged for the incident to even OCCUR? Tried to come lord his "weakened old man" status over him. It was one thing to "accidently" let the battle class get unfettered access to weapons before loyalty train. But to be dumb enough to step into his lab, call him weak, and gloat about it?

Dr. Raghnall Periculum was many things.

But "unwilling to bludgeon a man to death with the nearest object" was not one of them.

He was dangerous like that. Murderous. It came and went like shifting storms, all you could really do was learn to read the triggers. Get good at knowing when to back up. When to hold really, REALLY still. After all... this was a lawless, immoral place. No one here could or WOULD stop him.

They were all just as bad.

Gritty Sci-Fi Otome games are... a lot less fun to LIVE. To be honest? They are actually pretty horrifying. Traumatizing, really. Hellish. As in, I am pretty sure this is a futuristic version Of Hell (but that is a personal opinion). I regret EVER playing a single damn one. But... BUT? I CLING to the knowledge I gained from it. So I can not regret it completely. Because through them? Through KNOWING this world?

I KNOW this will end. KNOW we will be free. That these monsters will pay for what they've done. The epilog promises a golden age. A beautiful, peaceful dawn after this long and terrible night, filled with horrors. I just... I just have to survive. Hold on. Keep my head down and pray.

I may be trapped in hell, but I'm not broken.

We will be Free.

I have SEEN IT.

Sometimes the greatest defiance is just refusing to die. Just keeping hope alive. I... I can do that. May not be able to fight my way out. Not smart enough to hack or sabotage these nightmares. But I can stay alive. I... I can do that. Bear witness, that someday I may stand against them in trial. Record. So no one is forgotten.

It doesn't feel like enough. I feel tired and angry. Hateful and small. But for the sake of my sanity? I make myself feel nothing. Compartmentalize. I've... I've become unfortunately quite good at it. Good at a lot of terrible things. Like placating. Making myself small. Being invisible. A retail smile. Being one with the furniture.

See, just like the poor souls on the screens in front of him? I'm a Clone. Of who? I have no idea. None of us do. They use old DNA databases. From when it was first commercially available, I think. Like those ancestry tests. Here it was squirrelled away, kept for later use. Which... was us.

My template has been dead for centuries, I think. Or perhaps? She would have considered herself my mother? I hope she would have, strange as I turned out to be. We are all children of the dead. It'd be nice to think they'd have wanted us.

Dr. Periculum's cup lifts lightly as he take a drink, more focused on his work then anything else. That heft is about midway point. I've discovered if I begin brewing now, it will be done by the time his cup is empty and he wants more. A glance at the closest screen gives me the time. Food too, is a good idea.

He likely won't eat it. But if it's there? The chances are higher. And when he comes out of his focus, it'll be available. Less chance of him getting irritated by hunger.

On a well practiced route through piles of notes and projects I know better then to touch, I quietly make my way to the coffee machine. Begin another round of abomination the caffeine tar. It is, quite honestly, a wonder he hasn't accused me of trying to poison him to a heart attack.

A few granules of salt, a bit of cinnamon, some expensive fatty creamer, aaaand? There. Unholy bitterness gone. "Just" a cup of liquid tar so potent it could make a rhino taste time.

I also grab one of the meat pies and put it on a little paper plate.

Ah... what has my life become? That I am so well practiced in make snacks for a monster? Picking them up, I don't dare answer that. That way lies madness. Don't think about it. It can wash out in therapy. After. Because there WILL be an After. There HAS to be an After.

Careful steps and...? Just as I estimated. He just ran out. I nearly silently tap the paper plate down to the edge of the table then slide it forward, with-in ease of reach, but not too close. Then I swap the cups. Go to step away. Only to freeze. As, out of the corner of my eye, I see one of his hands briefly leave his keyboard to make a nearly dismissive "one moment" gesture.

Stay put. Don't move. I'll address you when I'm done with my, more important, thoughts. I feel the flash of fear, of panic, but let it go. There is nothing I can do. I will be hurt or I won't be hurt. There is no use suffering twice, through speculation and fear, I remind myself. Force my mind empty and pleasant. Retail smile. Happy to serve.

He finishes. Leans back, dissatisfied with some project or other, and finally slips on his glasses. Gestures imperiously for the cup in my hands. I do not question of course, merely hand it to him. He takes it, passes it to his other hand, and sets it aside. Then, casually, leans slightly over and wraps a thickly muscled arm around my waist. Dragging me off my feet and into his lap.

"You know, girl? B-21873 really was, actually quite promising. I was starting to think I'd keep him. Decent speed, good stamina, excellent problem solving. His test scoring was exceeding all expectations. Really thought I might have gotten you a little friend to play with. A gaurd so I could send you out on some chores safely. But no, he just HAD to be a failure." He said, leaning forward to grab his cup.

I was crushed awkwardly close. Could feel every moment. Acutely aware of his woody and sea air cologne, the coffee on his breath as words were spoken far to close, the beating of a heartbeat I could feel against my arm. Hyper aware of him. Why was I in his lap? This felt dangerous. I should not be in his lap.

Between sips, he turned his head and pressed his lips to my temple, not kissing... somehow worse. Just... just breathing me in. Slow, deliberate, and deep. Like savoring a scent, a sensation. The subtle back and forth, as though rubbing his lips against my hair. Enjoying the feeling against sensitive skin. It could almost be a cuddle on any other man. It took everything I had not to shudder.

"Unlike you of course. You pet, could never disappoint me. If these rejects tried even half as hard as my perfect darling girl? The world'd be a better place." He paused his almost nuzzling. To simply rest his head against mine, pulling off his glasses so he could tuck his head closer. His breathe was hot against my ear. His voice gravel and distain as it spoke of others.

"It's disgusting. Like they don't even try. We spend countless resources breeding, feeding, and training them... for what? Failure? I'm starting to think those bastards are deliberately sending me bad specimens."

Every word he said was horrifying. I could not cry. Dare not. But my heart screamed for those poor souls. They were just kids. Trapped in hell. Tortured from birth. Disposed of when they no longer met some arbitrarily impossible anime standard. If I turned my head, even slightly, I KNEW, I would be faced with screens of untold suffering. Feeds of "testing". So called training. Autopsy reports and datapoints.

Lists of who... who had been deemed "not good enough".

Who were scheduled to become "recycled biomass".

But if I looked? I would weep for them. And that? That was dangerous right now. Right NOW? I had to be pleasant company. A child's doll to be dragged around. No thoughts, no differing opinions. Preferably no opinions at ALL. Just warm and huggable. Soft. A beloved pet who serves coffee and brings things when told. Endure. I just... I must simply ENDURE.

The night will end. Dawn will come. Believe in her.

J-Just empty your head... and Believe In Her.

An alert pops up. I can hear it on a screen somewhere behind me. Dr. Periculum turns his head to look, reaching for his snack. Freezes. Then, a sharp bark of laughter. It's violent, like the strike of a lightning bolt, jostling me. The ones that follow just as harsh. He's not a man that laughs often. And it's not a kind sound.

Filled with schadenfreude, his laughter is like the vicious barks of hunting hounds. The shots of a weapon. A short and harsh to the ears sound, over and over. Delight in the suffering of an enemy. The fall of a rival. It strikes through his body like seizures. Making him lean forward to read. Brace against the desk, tighten his grip around me, widen the brace of his legs.

Glancing up, his eyes are alight with manic glee. His grin is vicious.

He looks Feral.

"Well, well, WELL! What do we have HERE?! Is that Jack ANDERSON'S facility I see? Mr. 'Master of the genome' himself? Looks like SOMEONE got AHEAD of themselves! Ha!" Raghnall cackles spinning his chair so I can see the screen. Leaning back to grab his cup and toast with it. "Look what we have here, pet! Some fucking KARMA! I knew that little shit wasn't worth the paper his degree was printed on! See this? THIS is what happens when you can't control your own damn compound!"

"Rest in PIECES, you worthless little SHIT!"

I sat. Frozen. As Dr. Periculum laughed and laughed, his mood viciously pleased. Because... because I recognized that facility. Chapter Two. There was an animation that played. The... the BREAKOUT! Joy filled me. Like the first rays of dawn. That was HER. S-she was OUT! Free! She DID it! Oh god... oh god she was COMING! It had finally BEGUN!

I caught myself. Barely.

My eyes felt a bit wet so I disguised it with a fake yawn. I dare not show empathy. NEVER show empathy. Keep it guarded like diamonds in your chest. If he thought, for even a moment, that I empathized with anyone but him. CARED about anyone but him? They wouldn't last the hour.

And it would be the longest, cruelest, hour in existence, as they died.

You make that sort of mistake exactly ONCE.

"Ah~ todays a GOOD day. And you know what we should do?" He hummed, nearly a coo as he spun us almost lazily around on his chair. In whimsical circles like a bored child. "We should celebrate. Ding dong, the fuckers dead~ HA HA! Not to mention? It's been entirely too long, pet, since I've spoiled you rotten. We should get a cake, hmm? You want a cake? Lil treat? Sweet lil treat for my girl?"

"I could get you that new dress I've been looking at. Bet you'll look like a classy lil princess, won't that be nice? Can even make it match the trackers I'm finishing up! No more uncomfy collars when we go out! Just pretty lil bracelets, ain't that nice?"

I force myself to smile. Nod. Ignore the fear and anger, the humiliation and helplessness. It's not time yet. Bid your time. You will LOSE your chance for True Freedom if you give in to your anger. Your hurt. Patience, THEN strike. Remember! Chapter two! There are FIVE.

It is COMING.

He stopped spinning, planting his feet on the floor. His manic grin softening. No less unhinged, less full of teeth, but perhaps the closest a man like him could come to loving. His eyes obsessive as the roam my face. Cataloging everything.

"You know, pet? You really might be might greatest creation. Best thing I've ever made or done. Anyone wants you? They'd have to pry you from my cold, dead hands. I'd burn EVERYTHING down. Kill just about EVERYONE." His voice was the sort of whispered confession meant for churches, not the heart of this hell he had built. It felt unholy. Dangerous.

Exactly like him.

"Once I figure how to take humanity to it's next stage? Reverse aging? Heck, even stop it. I promise, pet. Gonna take you with me. You're coming along for the ride. Straight to the end. Heat death of the universe. Well become GODS, pet. Live forever and a day. Bet you can't wait, huh?"

"Don't worry. The futures going be BEAUTIFUL. Just you wait."

[blueskittlesart]

tbh i think the transmisogyny problem on this site is so widespread at this point that nothing short of a complete overhaul of moderation protocol is going to fix it. the current system as outlined by that guy on staff whos digging his own grave rn is apparently purely based on responding to user-submitted support tickets, which relies on A) the users on this site having enough trust in the moderators to believe that submitting a support ticket might actually make some sort of difference, and B) the users on this site not WEAPONIZING that same support ticket system to unfairly target users who they dislike for personal reasons. Neither of these conditions were likely to be met even BEFORE staff had multiple scandals regarding unfair moderation of transfeminine users' content, and any trust that users may have had in that system has been completely eroded now. If staff GENUINELY wants to address this problem, they need to be proactive about it. there are plenty of tags where these people are known to gather. There is literally an entire third-party browser extension dedicated to flagging unsafe individuals. It's not like they're difficult to find. We've seen pretty clearly that staff has the ability to nuke blogs and tags entirely. The fact that they won't even HIDE tags like #radfem, #terfs please interact, etc. shows that they don't actually have any intention of making this site safer for trans women. they just want everyone to shut up about it. Even just removing the ability for terfs to find each other on this site could make a huge difference, but rather than do the bare minimum staff has decided to let one guy make whiny excuses and very loudly and publicly misgender a trans woman who they nuked for no reason. fucking embarrassing fr

[unlimitedbutchworks]

me: I think it’s bad when trans men are transmisogynistic, and that they should work against these views like everyone else has to to work against gendered oppression at large. I think that trans women should be able to exist in trans spaces without having to tolerate people who transphobically resent us

the meddlesome worm:

[nelkcats]

Not everything is what it seems

When Young Justice found Superboy, the heroes began to think, were there other similar places? Were there more cloned heroes? How had it all started?

So they investigated, there wasn't much to salvage from the destroyed place but they managed to trace the plans of the cloning pods to an abandoned mansion in Wisconsin. It appeared to be normal at first glance, although no one had set foot there in a while, that was until they got to the basement.

The basement was a mess, one side was destroyed as if something had exploded, on the other side were notes, capsules and DNA samples, though these were clearly useless, if the files could be trusted. It appeared to be old research, all of this was addressed at the weekly League meeting.

The worst part of it all was learning that the sample did not belong to any of them; what might have seemed like relief turned into torture when they discovered the existence of a "hero" in the past, a young hero who had acted before them all, and about whom no one knew anything. Another concern was a possible clone of said hero on the loose, though they didn't know how to address either issue.

Bruce couldn't get out of his head the image of a scared kid, out there without any support, fighting an evil version of himself. The League's priority was to find that boy immediately, and see if his clone was still active. They had to do something about it.

Most of them ignored Captain Marvel's advice to leave the matter alone, as it had been a long time and they didn't know the current circumstances.

At Amity Park, Danny felt a chill, he had a bad feeling. He decided to ignore it as he continued to scold Dan and Dani for using their powers irresponsibly, he knew the citizens of Amity wouldn't care, but the rest of the world would. Danny feared the world wasn't ready for them.

It really was hard being a single parent, although it didn't bother him, after the initial awkwardness everyone had adjusted and were quite happy.

[swordsonnet]

self-proclaimed radical leftists: in the communist utopia that exists only in my head, everyone will work, by which i mean a full-time job in the post-industrial revolution sense. this is because work is obviously the only way one can contribute to society, and everyone who doesn't work is a parasite that will be eradicated in my Communist Utopia™. i don't even care about the products or purpose of people's labour because, as everyone knows, employment equals morality and so having a job is inherently virtuous and not having a job makes you a lazy leech who doesn't deserve to live. trust me, this is a very communist idea. i'm practically an expert because i read 1.5 tweets about marx.

what? omg why are you making this about disability, i was obviously talking about normal people 🙄 if you're disabled, you have an excuse to be a useless waste of resources who can't contribute anything 😊 in my ✨ Communist Utopia ✨, you don't have to work if you're not able to. don't worry, we'll have rigorous and dehumanising tests to determine if you're disabled enough or if you're just a lazy faker! this process is infallible and has no drawbacks whatsoever for disabled people. have you considered that maybe you're the real ableist for criticising me? 🤔 anyway, have i mentioned how much i love employment and also the taste of boot leather

[an-albino-pinetree]

And if me being angry, isn’t enough to make you scatter, like a pack of razor blades dropped on an ice rink. (Because cockroaches are way too good for you) You’ve made me cry. Which, I shouldn’t be surprised by, my mom cried for 3 days, when Trump got in the first time, and realized how stupid you actually were.

Tears over your stupidity. But definitely not crying as hard as all your mothers, daughters, partners and sisters were, when they realized the person you are, and the people you choose to stand by.

[essektheylyss]

You know what we get soon? Level 20 utility wizard. :3

[fraternum-momentum]

hi i might open comms soon bc i impulse bought a bunch of plushies