#assholes will just fuck the base up

[still-nix-d-goffic]

Getting in the mood to play V Rising again (there's a free Halloween item dlc but I think the chance to get it expires)

By play V Rising I also mean "play" on my private PVE game with resources jacked to the roof so I can essentially play vampire Sims.

[thankstothe]

One liners the sequel

[lord-cornmont]

rewatching the first season of HOTD is so hard when you have a big family……….JUST SAY “I LOVE YOU” TO EACH OTHER!!!!!!!!! JUST SAY “I LOVE YOU!!” AND MEAN IT!!!! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!!! HUG EACH OTHER AND TELL THEM THAT YOU LOVE THEM

[skrunksthatwunk]

you go to a lesbian blog and find it says women only!! no men allowed!!! and go oh! excuse me, um, what about other lesbians? plenty of lesbians are genderqueer... and they go well, okay, go fuck yourself tim chop off your sweaty dick and stop calling yourself a lesbian. you do not have a dick, actually. you think about that fact often, even though it does you no good. you do not tell this person that.

you go to another lesbian blog and it says women only and you try again, and this time they change it to wlw + nblw only (non-men who love non-men :D). and you'll say hey i appreciate that but gender's not really that cut and dry for a lot of people. someone could be both a man and nonbinary, for instance. i just worry that you're looking at nonbinary as a generic third gender, or an extension of womanhood. i mean yeah you include nblw in your tags but all your posts are about pussy-havers exclusively. what's with that? and they say go fuck yourself you pervy man pretending to be a lesbian. you tried to sneak in but i won't let you.

so you go to a lesbian blog with a dozen or so posts about queer people needing to be more weird about it and you sigh in relief. but you still see the men dni. that's odd. hoping for the best, you say hey! i know you mean well but please maybe don't put men dni at the end of the lovely posts on your lesbian blog bc some lesbians are men. and they'll be like ok!! well you're allowed ;) and you say no that's not. no. some men are lesbians not just me. you think about your own dicklessness and wonder if that's why you were given entry. and you add that even if male lesbians are allowed, there's no indication of that. how would anyone know without asking? and they're like ohh gotcha gotcha well men dni + this is for sapphics only!! and you'll be like ok well that treats the concepts of men and sapphics as mutually exclusive identities and i just told you that's not true and you agreed with me so.. i don't think that solves our problem. and they're like. ok. fine. men dni but genderfluid and multigender people are allowed! and you're like no see that's. that's still the same thing.. you're saying the same thing just with different words. if you don't want men to interact but you're fine with multigender/genderfluid/etc ppl interacting then you either don't see them as Real Men (because they don't reach a standard of Full Manhood) or Complete Men (because they're only Part-Time Men), both of which suggest that they are, in some way, not men or less-than men, which is invalidating and defeats the point of the exception in the first place (accommodation) OR that you don't really mean the dni which is confusing and inconsistent and makes guydykes feel weird and uncomfortable and excluded from the lesbian space you're trying to cultivate. and they're like um. ok. so. cishet men dni? and you're like well i think that makes more sense, but what if someone identifies as both a cishet man and a sapphic? again, if we're trying to accommodate the genderfucky populace then that has to be a possibility that is considered. and they say god you people are never happy. what do you want me to do? what am i supposed to say to keep the right men out? and you pause. you empathize with the need for a space free from dudes trying to fuck you straight and feminine. dudes who watch lesbian porn and joke about what they'd do if they were allowed into girls locker rooms. who look at you like a piece of meat, and like someone who looks at women like pieces of meat in the same way he does. you get it. you know. you want a space where you can be sapphic, too. that's why you came to these blogs in the first place. you brace yourself and you say well i don't know that there are "right men" to keep out. i don't know that there's any single label that would accomplish whatever it is you're trying to accomplish. you could go for "sapphics only" or "queers only" and i think that might be the closest thing to what you want, but it's never going to be perfect. creating any exclusive space is going to shut out people you didn't account for, and the broader the label, the more people will be shut out that you didn't want to shut out. and what about people who don't know if they're allowed? what of questioning transbians, where are they supposed to go? and, frankly, i think i might rather my dykey posts get read and appreciated by a gay guy who sees me as a man than a woman who only sees me as a sacred womb, pure from male perversions or violence or whatever. i think community might just be more complex than a dni can handle. and they look at you and say i don't want to not have a dni. i think you're too permissive. you can't just "what about" or microlabel your way into everything. go fuck yourself, i bet you're not even a lesbian anyway. go find a real problem to get mad about.

you go to a lesbian blog. you ignore the men dni because you know you probably don't even count to them. or maybe you do count and, out of respect for your manhood, they'd shun you accordingly. you try to feel okay about that. you scroll past dozens of posts about mediocre men and gagging at straight friends' boyfriends and how gross and undeserving men are of the beautiful women they couple up with and how all women should be gay so they can get treated right and and and and and. you finally find a post about curling into someone you love and feeling at peace and try to lose yourself in it. you know that feeling is what unites you, what makes you belong. you try to focus on it. you think about carding your hands through a butch's hair or lacing fingers with a femme and feeling warm and loved and more yourself than you ever have before. like this is who you're meant to be. you read about lesboys and butch boytoys and genderfucky dykes and big hairy deep-voiced wonderful women (like you want to be someday, like you wish you could make yourself) and you try to ignore the men dni underneath each and every post. and you daydream about meeting someone kind and earnest at a lesbian bar even though you don't think any such bars exist within three states of you and you can't drink and don't want to drink because you need to be in control of yourself at all times so you don't fuck up like you're always about to and here in the nonexistent lesbian bar you feel wanted and safe and in good company. you picture your ideal, happiest self. it is a mistake. ideal-you has a goatee. not the mascara one you smear on and call drag even though you know it's not drag, not really, the beard you call drag because you think everyone would look at you sadly if you told them it was just to pretend you had something out of your reach. a beard that's soft and that you grew and that cannot be smudged away if you get too comfortable with it. the dream shatters. your people pull away from you, their scoffs mixing with the mind-numbing gay girl bedroom pop you learned to settle for just to have something that almost resembled you, they all pull away and turn their backs and do not look at you. you're too close to being a man now, even though you're the same amount of man as before. and they know you're not supposed to interact with men, not as you would with dykes, at least. and it sours. it's all your imagination, all in your head, but it sours.

you sigh. you think about how small you are. how short, how narrow, how feeble. how your voice pitches up when you talk to strangers because it's easier to speak quietly when it carries more, and because you're nervous. because it's a chore to talk, like everything is. you think about testosterone. you think about how your family would look at you, the questions they would ask, your answers they would only pretend to accept. the uncomfortable glances and whispered questions they'd try to hide from you. you think about how small you are, and how small you will always be. how you don't know of a way to fix it, but even if there was one, no one would want you anymore. you'd be the only one thinking it made you a cooler dyke. you think about how you don't even want a T-voice all the time, how you'll never be able to switch it at will, because you don't know how and can't bring yourself to figure it out. you think about how your throat closes around every hint of your own attraction. how wanting is perverse, how wanting is invasive, how wanting is embarrassing and too vulnerable so it must stay anonymous, as an online witness, and how you can barely manage to form or maintain friendships because your brain makes you pull away, always spinning out and struggling to recover from the simplest of interactions. how they'll all leave you and you won't chase after them at all and how that will hurt them. how stuck you get. how it looks like nothing's holding you back, how that frustrates everyone who thought you were going to be more than you were. the people you love who understand except when it comes to being ghosted, being shut out. how you don't want to hurt them. how you can't tell them that because you're stuck. how you turn to stone when touched, how you never reach out, how you lose your speech and can't look at people, how your autism is fun and sexy until it becomes real and you never see them anymore, how much you longed for someone who knew everything without you having to explain, and who loved you anyway. how unreasonable you know that is to expect of anyone. you think about that not-even-real lesbian bar. you think about how you still can't drive. how you can't leave your home on your own, without dragging somebody into helping you. how you can't leave your body. how you can't leave your manhood behind.

you think about finding another lesbian blog and ignoring everything. about skimming it for the parts you can juice some meaning from. the parts men ignore and don't understand, and how typical of you it is to do so. or the parts where you're not welcome and you should accept that, because it's for lesbians only. how you are a lesbian anyway. how you're meant to choose lesbian or man, how each is a betrayal of some kind to yourself or your people, your family, your lovely strangers, your rare friendly acquaintances. about the parts that tell you you're not wanted, that you're ugly and lazy and gross and insert yourself everywhere without even asking. about the parts that tell you you are hated, and how lesbians are above it all by rejecting men. how lesbians are each blessed miracles. about the parts that say you should be ashamed of being whatever twisted confused freak you are, of everything, of looking and wanting or not looking or not wanting, of picking and choosing instead of taking it all in with a smile. after all, shouldn't you take it? or is your ego too fragile, as men's so often are? aren't you tired? good. we're not here for your consumption. and we sure as hell don't want your company or "community" or whatever. didn't you read the sign? no boys allowed. and if you want to come in you have to make up your mind. as if you haven't told them the only answer you have. you're both. you're both.

you know you broke the rule by interacting.

but it gets lonely sometimes. you wonder if they know.

[dailykugisaki]

Day 347 | id in alt

Kugisaki hasn't been around Gojo enough to gaf about him LMAO.

[oh-meow-swirls]

was looking through old posts and i'm surprised to see that i seemingly didn't have any commentary on anything in 3 in chapter 7, 8 or 9, the posts related to 3's story go from "my first reaction when i saw yopple-bot was 'i love you. but also you are definitely the boss for this chapter-'" to "i have been in hell all day. hell being bada-bing tower." funny to me cuz those chapters are like, the best ones sdfkljsdfjfsdkjlfsdjkl-

[randomwriteronline]

Perditus grunted a little as he adjusted his leg while laying down against the rock. It was a pleasant day, all things considered: the sun was warm without being smoldering, the winds were strong but not as harsh as usual, and he had something to make the pain a little more bearable.

With his eyes shut he fished a flint lighter and a medicinal sghitt out of the pouch under his thigh armor.

He didn't bother looking as he heard footsteps approach quickly; medication stuck between his teeth, he clicked lazily until he caught the telltale crackle of papery tissue catching fire, took the longest, deepest inhale he could, soaking in the acrid taste and familiar burn in the back of his head, and let an enormous cloud of septic-smelling smoke blow out of his mouth with a growling sigh.

His fellow debtor sat beside him nervously, scanning the horizon.

"Any news?" he asked.

"I was going to ask you," the Glatorian replied.

"None, then."

"None."

Hard nails tapped far too quickly against the rock.

Perditus took another drag. The numbing effect was starting to take hold of his anguishing limb.

"Do you think it'll be soon?" Atakus asked.

The Tapyri exhaled: "Maybe."

"Yes or no?"

"Maybe, I said."

"Maybe means nothing," the other said, glaring at him with his typical nervous anger, the fact that the larger being still wasn't looking at him inconsequential: "Will it be soon, yes or no?"

A shrug: "Probably, yes."

"You think?"

"Unless he wants to observe these freaks of nature do their merry little dance in a new environment for a while. But I'll bet a guy like him has already watched them long enough to get bored by now."

Another pause.

The hard nails were now scratching at the stone.

Another long drag and a puff of smoke.

"Do you think he'll kill us before or after the plan's done?"

"Who knows," Perditus answered lazily. He reclined his head to better bask in the sun. "Before would be a little annoying. For us, of course, he wouldn't care if we never saw what all this thankless work has been for. But then again we're his cannon fodder - maybe he'll wait till he has no need even for that."

He played with his sghitt, turning it between his fingers.

The knowledge that his eventual instantaneous murder would be inevitable had slowly but surely numbed him to the very same fact across the span of the many, interminable centuries that had passed since the day he'd started wracking up this blasted debt, and his only request (which he knew would never be taken into consideration) was to be allowed to die slowly, painfully, so that he could at least feel the life leave his body properly; but Atakus had never managed to make peace with the horror of their shared fate, and now that the moment was drawing near he was every day a little closer to losing his mind completely to the horror of his situation.

Frankly he was surprised the Potori had lived this long, with as anxious a disposition as he had. He'd always imagined he'd get out of his shackles with a stroke.

And yet here they both were.

Awaiting the second coming of a cruel god.

And while entire species were about to be massacred into heaps of melting, wailing scraps any second or day or month now, they were sitting against a rock under a pleasantly warm sun bathing in its light.

He could hear the Agori's irregular breath become louder.

"How's your leg?" Atakus asked in a fruitless attempt at changing the course of his spiraling thoughts.

"Hurts as usual." Perditus replied. "How's your heart?"

"Beating too fast," the Potori answered, "As usual."

The Glatorian's hand leaned over to the smaller being, offering the sghitt between his index and middle: "Take as many as you need."

The medicine was taken from his fingers by significantly shakier ones. He listened to the air slither with a long hiss into Atakus's lungs for the first time; the second was a little longer, a little less frantic, followed by a loud sigh; the third time was slow and deliberate, finally a little more at ease.

He listened to the sound of Skrall armor scraping against stone as the Agori laid back against the warm rock with him. A smaller hand placed the medication back in his palm, and he hummed gratefully before taking another drag himself.

The wind picked up slightly and dragged the smoke away from them.

He opened his eyes blearily, squinting in the sun.

Such a nice day.

Something far, far away, up in the clear sky, exploded. He saw the burst, a blot of bright hot color tearing apart the stratosphere, and long lines of white and faint red as pieces of whatever that was tried to land on Spherus Magna; but the destroyed body was barely above the size of a dot from where he was, and its meteors shriveled up into dust before coming anywhere close to the highest point available for them to strike, and in the end nothing of whatever tragedy had just transpired mattered at all.

The Glatorian hummed.

"Did something happen?" Atakus asked, eyes closed.

"No," his companion reassured him. "Relax."

The Potori did not respond, and got a little more comfortable.

Perditus glanced at him.

Maybe it made sense - he mused for a second, a second only - for Velika, of all cruel, paradoxical beings, to one day have complete and total control over this cruel, paradoxical world.

[misspickman]

transfem kon proposal could have been good if was good

[grinchwrapsupreme]

It actually does comfort me that Jesse Armstrong says the events of Succession have just been a detour in Roman's life and hes "right back where he started." I dont believe him, but it does comfort me.

[lord-squiggletits]

I'm fighting so hard not to say something salty about how FAST the other Autobot medics gave up Pharma for dead and being irredeemably evil. But like, I'm a Pharma simp but I don't want to be that embarrassing

[gorekiss]

finding out about the shooter is gonna ruin my fucking week

[fragglerockopinions]

You're supposed to ask for help. If you don't ask for help you're never going to get help and you will be condemned for being useless and taking no actions to help yourself. If you ask for help. no one is going to help you. you are not allowed to wish that anyone help you or expect anyone to help you or you are a selfish piece of shit. you are not allowed to wish things were better. You're not allowed to ask for help actually because you are selfish and you didn't think about how others might feel being put in the vulnerable and intimate position of being asked for help. your friends did not consent to being asked for help or explained why you've been having problems and you should have thought about the way they felt before you forced them to read your texts asking them for help. I'm not even joking I should just kill myself because there is actually genuinely no such thing as getting better or getting help or being a good friend ?

[starsofthestorm]

unpopular opinion. maybe we should stop attacking people for having pronouns or gender headcanons that differ from canon for fictional robots.

yk. just maybe. maybe it isn't that big of a deal if five pebbles is transfem in an au. maybe it's not that big of a deal if suns is he/him or he/they or they/them or even she/her

maybe we should. stop fucking doing that it's pronouns in a fictional fucking game.

[lwoorl]

I'll say it: "Oh all AI artists do is write a stupid description and immediately get an image with no effort, there's no art in that" is the new "Digital painting doesn't count as art because it takes no effort"

[littencloud9]

.

[docktowndame]

the DA comics have some great action and fight scenes but they cant keep Fenris(or other characters) consistent for shit. His eyes AND his skin tone change color multiple times. sometimes on the same page! how do you fuck up like this.