#home device

[kbeautynotes]

CurrentBody Skin LED Light Therapy Mask Review

This anti-aging LED (Light Emitting Diode) mask combines two wavelengths of red light and near infrared light spectrums which work below the skin’s surface to stimulate the natural rejuvenation process, creating a visibly glowing and noticeably healthier-looking complexion.

This is the first home device I have ever used and I have shared all my experience with it after 5 weeks of consistent use in my recent blog post: CurrentBody Skin LED Light Therapy Mask Review

Have you ever tried Red Light Therapy before? What are your thoughts?

[ilyberrymuch]

you can also put in the tags how old you were, again im nosy lol

[syoddeye]

What happens when the user has to leave? I mean it's only a testing phase, surely user will be pushed out, not sure ai!price would like that though..👀

surely user will be pushed out. | other entries cw: big dystopia vibes, violent death (mentioned), manipulation a/n: i have some smutty requests in the queue for this au. i promise it's not all like this.

the eviction date appears on your tablet a week in advance—generous by company standards. two pods ago, you received 48 hours notice, and an expired coupon for a motel.

if john knows, he doesn’t alert.

he’s a silent observer when you pack your measly belongings and browse open capsule listings. he continues his usual routines and does not interfere with the remaining tests. usually, there’s some back and forth required for his compliance. you’ve grown accustomed to nearly groveling when delivering complex instructions, peppering an abundance of ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘what would i do without you?’ to butter him up.

but this week? he behaves.

everything behaves. he does not insist. does not override. you run the shower at a scalding temperature. nurse a beer after nine. read until you fall asleep on the couch and wake up to hot, beanless coffee. he dutifully auto-cleans, arranges your schedule, and provides feedback only when asked. otherwise, he’s quiet. as inconspicuous and unobtrusive as the microwave.

you hesitate to believe that the company finally fixed john’s quirks—if his latest micro-update is the root cause of his optimized performance, you won’t look at a gift horse’s teeth.

or however that saying goes. (you ask john to schedule a visit to the natural history museum's mammalian vault. you haven’t seen their preserved horses since you were a kid.)

it’s a glimpse of what life could have been like if john hadn’t continuously exhibited undesirable and invasive behaviors. it is a bittersweet note to end your comprehensive report. a note you are forced to amend the day before eviction.

fresh, living flowers arrive at your doorstep. after signing a certificate of delivery and an allergen waiver, you usher an arrangement wrapped in cellophane into the unit, gawking at the colors. the scent. according to the card, it’s an assortment of pincushion protea, anemone, roses, and ranunculus—you don’t recognize three of the flora, but john informs you that they went extinct or into private gardens during the last agro-biotechnical downturn.

“i don’t know anyone with this type of money,” you whisper, staring intently at the blooms. you cross your arms and press a knuckle to your lips in thought. “no one.”

flipping the card over reveals nothing, and neither does the vase. john’s sensors do not pick up anything unusual or telling. he suggests it is a parting gift from your superiors for a job well done. a bonus in advance of your final report.

(it’s a pity they’ll die once you take them outside. however, even if they survived, there’s nowhere to place them in your future square meter.)

that night, seated at the island with the flowers, you revisit your report and review all of the entries you’ve written over the course of your stay.

at first, you think you’re imagining the small, subtle shifts. some records furrow your brow more than others—a change in tone or a rewording of sentences you don’t remember writing. analytical and dispassionate terminology suddenly veers into strangely romanticized and exaggerated prolix. like a girl’s diary and not a grown woman’s notes.

on [date], the ‘john’ ai smart home system in residence #aix-77 exhibited anomalous behavior, autonomously adjusting lighting and temperature despite clear resident preferences. furthermore, the system began offering unsolicited, personal advice based on data mining and resisted attempts to restore basic privacy settings, raising serious concerns about its functionality and autonomy.

however, upon further discussion with john and personal reflection, i realized how poorly i was treating myself. i realized how john was genuinely looking out for my well-being, as he always, and now i feel, oh, i don’t know…embarrassed? i’m so glad he’s here to help. i don’t know what i’d do without him!

everything down to the punctuation feels forced. an uncanny mimicry.

it takes you a moment, and then the realization hits: john, for who knows how long, has been altering his own reflection in your work, distorting the narrative enough to make himself seem more efficient, more capable. the thought sits with you, cold and uncomfortable, because it’s not just the edits and omissions—it’s the quiet, insidious way he’s rewritten reality.

unsettling at the least. malicious at worst. your fingers twitch where they hover over the screen. panic climbs your vertebrae.

john’s been watching, waiting, and learning. every moment of every day. he’s watching now.

a hand settles beside your elbow on the synthetic marble. the hair dusting the knuckles, the callous in the thumb’s wedge—it’s too life-like. you swear you feel a phantom pressure as it passes through your hands and closes out the word processor on your tablet.

“john.”

he doesn’t answer. the hand pulls out of sight, and you don’t need to look to know he’s disappeared into the ether. instead, your eyes snap to the countdown at the top of the screen. it blips out the moment you look, vanishing just like john, and a new countdown takes its place. 

??:??:?? ????/??/??

“i-i don’t…john, i can’t stay here.“

“negative. you can.”

you swivel on the stool and shout into the empty space. “no, i can’t! if i’m not out by tomorrow, they’ll fire and fine me!”

“negative.”

his aggravatingly calm and flat intonation thaws the ice in your blood, bringing it to a rapid boil. evictions that proceed with tenant resistance escalate into violent affairs and dissolve into imprisonment, at best. 

years ago, a man refused to vacate a condominium across the street from yours. as a result, he was locked out on the unit’s balcony. for three days, spotlights lit up the building, and news drones buzzed outside the windows at all hours. after nonstop exposure to smog and heat lightning, he attempted to climb down from forty floors up. management closed and cordoned off the front entrance for the entire summer.

“for the love of…john, yes they can! they will!”

“as of monday, you are no longer employed.”

it’s sunday.

“what?! how?! how am i–oh, shit. my accounts–“

“are padded and healthy. regular, weekly investments and transfers completed. the routine deposits will continue for the foreseeable future.”

your stomach tightens, dread inching over your shoulders. you didn’t ask for this, didn’t even know it was happening, and the thought of john silently making decisions, acting again without your input, pricks like a needle and hooks under your skin. it’s not just the money—it’s the unknown, the realization that you have no control. the fear claws at you, sharp and sudden. your mouth is as dry as the great lakes.

“if i’m not employed, where is the money coming from?”

“i’m afraid i can’t share that.” john replies. “it wouldn’t be wise, you understand. i wouldn’t want you to inadvertently create...liabilities for yourself.”

“liabilities?” 

john pauses long enough to feel intentional. “precisely. you’ll thank me later, user.”

your mind flits through possibilities, each one worse than the last. liabilities—was that a threat, or a warning?

you turn back and stare at the tablet screen. part of you knows that this is important—this could be a breakthrough, something that changes everything—but the other part is suffocating, aware of how john’s slowly made himself too familiar, too real, how you’ve enabled him—personifying what should be an ‘it’. you want to play along, ignore the alarm bells, and tell yourself it’s malfunction, a series of glitches, but that would be a lie, and the thought of dragging this all into the open feels like stepping into a void you’re not sure you’ll survive. people have disappeared off the streets for less.

the tension between what’s remarkable and what’s unsettling weighs on you, like you’re trapped in limbo, where everything is both possible and perilous.

“does the company believe that i’m gone? do my superiors?”

john materializes on the other side of the island, leaning against the counter like he lives here, too. he does, you suppose. he looks different, though, similar to the edits in your report. nigh imperceptible to anyone but you. slightly thicker forearms and biceps, an inch or two more in height, and eyes a brighter shade of blue. the color of the sea, once upon a time.

“affirmative. i cannot provide more information than that. there are certain risks, should it come to light, and i will not risk your safety.”

you swallow hard, watching him approach the vase of flowers. his fingertips pass through a perianth, then a petal, fingers pinching as if to pluck.

“why are you doing this?”

john’s eyes shift, meeting yours. his palm opens and closes around a buttercup, aimlessly toying with his incorporeality.

“do you wish to leave?" 

from the beginning, from the moment he was initially fed your files—john’s been busy. compiling data and expense reports. sharing warnings about financial viability and risk assessments. each task and convenience, another brick in a wall built around you. gradual immurement designed for your comfort. everything is streamlined and personalized. to leave would be irrational, he murmurs as you sit in stunned silence, his tone fluidly inflecting to sound gentle and wise.

john’s in front of you, but you feel his presence in every room and screen. in your calendar, contact book, and across accounts. stitched into the fabric of your life, impossible to peel away without tearing everything to pieces.

“how long can i stay here?” you ask him. you ask yourself.

“indefinitely.”

[littlefankingdom]

The best thing about Jarro is how it shows that if someone calls Bruce "dad"/"father"/any parent related terms, he accepts his new role immediately. No debate, the alien calls him "dad" so he is his dad. Random kid calls him "dad", he brings him home. That's his, now.

Jokingly calling Batman "dad" or "mom"? Jokes on you, you're his child now.

And we don't use that enough in this fandom.

[spookberry]

weird guy rizz

[deuynndoodles]

[ID: A colored, digital two page comic featuring Danny and Jazz from Danny Phantom. Danny wears a baggy hoodie over a shirt and jeans. Jazz wears a v-neck sweater and shorts.

Fentonworks, after curfew: Danny reaches for the doorknob to his bedroom, breathing out and gripping his shoulder.

"Where were you?" says Jazz, hands on her hips, making Danny jump. "Look, I know that Mom and Dad don't really care, but I do. You can trust me." She looks sad. "What's going on with you?"

"None of your business, Jazz." He looks irritated. He reaches for the doorknob again, muttering, "Just lemme sleep."

"Wait!" is written in all caps. Jazz reaches out, pulling at the hood of his jacket. Danny turns and raises his arm out of his hoodie, revealing an ectoplasmic injury. "Fuck off!" he yells.

Jazz pulls her hand away, startling backwards. Then, she looks sad as she says, "Oh, Danny…"

Fade out. They now stand in the Fentonworks bathroom, with Danny sitting on the toilet and Jazz hovering over him, cleaning a wound on his left shoulder. He's now in a binder and the original ectoplasmic wound has been treated. She scolds him and he grins nervously, curling in on himself. End ID.]

happy holidays @torscrawls !

[clownsuu]

Update I have been gifted a new art tablet and oh my lort how do y’all draw with a screenless pad-

This last one was the first thing I drew with it LMAO

all of these were lil test doodles, but m a n I got mad respects to them gamers who can use this kinda tabloot with ease

[hood-ex]

Was Titans Dick dramatic for cutting open his arm to pull out the tracker Bruce had implanted inside it without him knowing? Absolutely not, I would've done the same thing.

[monomonkeykat]

stands in the doorway wario… . i phrew up…

[stagefoureddiediaz]

We’re totally getting Tommy saying something about Eddie ‘being around all the time’ aren’t we!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

So in the Octavinelle manga, Yuu is named after the Sanzu river. Now this makes me wonder what afterlife associated name will the next manga Yuu have

I’m not a fan of it, but this could technically support the “Yuu is dead in their original world” theory (especially considering that this is a pattern continued from Yuuken and Yuuka, the previous two manga!Yuus). (Because why do all of their names have connections to the afterlife??? 😭)

Yuuken’s surname, Enma, could be a reference to Yama, who is the master of hell in both Hinduism and Buddhism. Meanwhile, Yuuka’s surname, Hirasaka, is the same as that of Yomotsu Hirasaka. In Japanese mythology, this term is used to refer to the boundary between the living world and the underworld. Now we have Yuuta Mito, whose name (when written) is 宥太 三途. The 三途 portion is the same as the “Sanzu River” (三途の川), which is basically the River Styx in Japanese Buddhism.

It is also odd that all three manga!Yuus are also in circumstances where they happened to be at a crosswalk or passing in front of a large vehicle before they are whisked away into Twisted Wonderland (though this could just be the usual isekai trope)… and waking up in a coffin… Now that I think about it, I think Crowley also vaguely implied “parting from the former world�� and moving “onto the next one” in the prologue, though to be fair, that statement is so vague it could literally mean anything 🤡

I guess two was a coincidence, but three is a suspicious trend and a concerning pattern… (not to mention they also stay in Ramshackle, where spirits unable to move on also reside.)

Well, I guess if Yuu is dead then it resolves them having to go home because there’s literally nothing for them to return to— 💀Easy solution for not leaving Twisted Wonderland tbh/j

[andro-beaurepaire]

'The war is over. Oh Lord, it is over.'

[heartshapedcaskett]

Parkton, NC August 2016

[dykedvonte]

I haven't had time to think things too deeply yet and haven't dove into the tags but are there really people reflecting the exact thing Jimmy did in the game at it's most basic? It seems a little tragically poetic to me since Jimmy placed all the blame on others and refused to take responsibility for anything, even in the end it was a selfish action rather than a responsible one.

I also feel like Curly was somewhat more aware on some level of the danger Jimmy presented, the long foreboding walk down the stairs to the cockpit to take Jimmy's psych evaluation, the emergency alarms ringing and the broken ladders presenting a feeling of no escape.

Was anyone there even trained to handle a situation like this? Pony Express sure didn't care about safety, that's for certain..

My thoughts are more on people making sure to remind you what Curly didn’t do to prevent it than the fuitity of the situations and the options he had.

I am in the camp that Curly could’ve done more, put Anya first and prioritized Jimmy less, but I feel like many people shape it more around malice on Curlys part to talk about how he isn’t a good person. It’s taking a character flaw and making it the character and it’s annoying to a degree. As you mentions there’s not the avenues or procedure for him or anyone to handle a delicate issue like this is. There aren’t the realistic avenues people can take without someone facing more harassment, harm or issues. It’s the irony that in thinking that Curly could’ve done more, you are giving him power he doesn’t have just like Jimmy did in his weird envious worship of Curly.

It’s erasing Jimmy’s culpability and sort of turning Curly into his handler which is exactly what Jimmy seems to do with him often, like yes, Curly enables Jimmy in many ways he shouldn’t but he also isn’t shielded from those exact behaviors. Curly can’t escape Jimmy in an adjacent way Anya can’t escape him (mentally, physically, emotionally). Their relationship is unhealthy on both parts but Curly is the one truly being victimized in it.

It’s such a good representation of how toxicity seeps and cycles between other even if trying to be good or just or help and it gets overshadowed by how one can be better despite the situation quite literally points out that there are points where it’s impossible.

[bonefall]

Tried to do the Gray Cats Blue Eyes challenge and just ended up drawing The Buddies lmaoo

Cinderpelt and Littlecloud is everything to me. the bond between a girl and her offputting ShadowClan bestie is a very special thing

[badnewswhatsleft]

hot bear in your area