#honestly just kill me

[parabiota]

I have to go to organic chemistry 2

[thetriumphantpanda]

My dissertation supervisor has put in a last minute meeting tomorrow and demanded my research questions and aims and objectives sent within the next 30 minutes. My anxiety is in a spin and I have been at panic stations all day.

I was meant to have this done and sent to her at the middle of April.... and somehow I'm surprised and astounded that she has the audacity to demand this from me now knowing I've done fuck all work towards it..... I am my own worst enemy 🫠🙃

[ah-crivens]

The cherry on top of the shit sundae today was when I wanted to drop into the Ether and never be seen again for going on the intercom at work and instead of doing closing announcements, my brain switched "Attention (dept store) shoppers" to "thank you for calling (dept store)" and it was heard across the whole damn store 🫠

[klausie]

and i forgot that its sunday so the bus isnt even running today.

[spoopdeedoop]

king and harbinger, old and young

[brryleigh]

Literally there is so many interviews with Trump that shows hes a bad person and people chose to ignore that and HOW?? Some of the stuff he says/said is INSANE. The people who voted for him will someday look back on their mistake and still say they did the right thing. Im in shock and quite honestly don’t know what to say. Im just scared at this point and theres nothing now I can do.

I’m going to kill myself and I wish I were joking but I truly am just…shocked. I hate this country. I fucking hate everything and everyone. I actually can’t believe this right now. Everything, EVERYTHING this country still has and any reputation or legitimacy the government may have is fucking gone. Everything is fucking gone. Everything is done.

The irony that this fucking man who got impeached twice and has 30+ felonies under his belt, ran the most scary and dangerous race with the worst possible policies, and still managed to fucking win. I don’t even have words to say, I’m just crying as I type this. I’m lucky to live in a “progressive” city, but even then people don’t know how fucked up things are for those in swing states and overall Republican states. The existence of people who voted against him are threats to their safety and livelihoods. We are going to be sent so far backwards this country won’t have anything left, and if you think we’ll be able to protest and mobilize under Trump I really hope you’re prepared to die because that’s what waiting for us when he uses military power against protestors.

This is the same man that said he wants to get rid of immigrants and birthright citizenship, as a first gen immigrant that’s a direct threat to me and my family’s livelihood in this country. We’re going to have a conservative majority for the next 50 years, and you can all kiss tumblr and everything else you hold dear goodbye. Food recalls, climate disaster will be sped up immensely, the entire Middle East is about to be a disaster and we can’t stop it, department of education is essentially done, police are getting full immunity to kill whoever they see fit but we know it’ll be black Americans. Women and LGBTQ people just lost whatever rights they have left and men will use that to their fucking advantage. And people who think this stops at 4 years aren’t thinking, he can easily change to extend the presidential term because now republicans have control of all three fucking branches of government, they can do whatever they want. Yes, it is that bad. The amount of violence that will take place within the next few days and after inauguration day will be immense, I can’t even imagine what it’ll be like.

Literally fuck white women who voted for Trump. Fuck Latinos who voted for Trump. Fuck first time male voters who voted for Trump. Fuck the Democratic Party for being pro genocide and caring too much about Republican voters. Fuck everyone and everything, and I truly wholeheartedly mean that. I have too many words and feelings that literally won’t fit the page, but all I can say is fuck you all.

[hinamie]

cursed kids v2 ⚠️👹

i've been a jjk first years stan since day one and have been wanting to redraw the first art i did featuring the three of them

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

MDZS x Brazil (1985)

(Yes. Real movie dialogue)

[mingyusbinch]

REST IN PEACE, DEAR MOONBIN (1998-2023)

[mipexch]

since layer 7 dropped you can send literally any enemy to go kill something wicked repeatedly & v2 being the one to do that is just really funny to me

[blackjackkent]

I've lived in this cess-pit longer than you've been alive. We can compare stinks, if you would like?

[cometblaster2070]

ranting for a bit because the entire scene where elphaba tells glinda her secret makes me go rabid and actually makes me want to chew concrete because not only is it actually absolutely heartbreaking to see just how deeply elphaba believes all the horrible things her father reinforces; how she thinks she's responsible for her mother's death and is the reason for nessarose's disability even when it's literally not her fault in any way and is actually DIRECTLY her father's fault.

and just the fact that elphaba tells glinda all this and tells glinda her father hates her and that everything's her fault and glinda looks at her and she's absolutely heartbroken to hear elphaba saying all these things and she becomes the first person in elphaba's life to look her in the eyes and tell her that none of that is true and that it is NOT her fault, it was NEVER her fault despite whatever anyone said.

ik a lot of ppl see glinda's "it was the milkflower's fault" line as a very sort of shallow take by glinda (I'm explaining it poorly but ik some ppl wonder why she didn't just call out governor thropp directly) but I've got to disagree with that take because personally I think glinda heard elphaba talking, heard her describe her secret and heard how her father forced her mother to chew milkflowers constantly during her pregnancy all because he was afraid the baby would come out green like elphaba and she heard all this and she hears how elphaba thinks this is all her fault.

and yk they're roommates. glinda sees the way elphaba talks about her father and how even though she says that he hates her in an almost casual manner despite how she says he's justified for hating her, elphaba still loves her father and she still wants to do right by him and she still wants him to love her.

so glinda knows that elphaba will not listen to her if she straight up tells her that her father's fucking mental and completely wrong and that it was all his fault and that she's probably going to bludgeon him to death. she knows that elphaba will never accept this and she knows that right now it won't do any good for anyone.

so instead she tells elphaba it was the milkflower's fault. and she looks her in the eyes and she tells her this was never your fault you shouldn't think this was ever your fault and anyone who ever told you that it was your fault was completely and totally wrong and I need you to know this.

because the primary concern isn't about telling elphaba she's got a shitty dad the primary concern is telling elphaba that it is not her fault for simply existing. and to let her know that there is nothing wrong with her and that there is someone here, right now, who loves and cares for her so so much and wants her to know that. that there is someone who will hold her hand and who will tell her that they are there for her and that she is fine the way she is. that she is loved.

[royalarchivist]

Cellbit: If it's bugged, I'll even like, watch your clip to see what happened with [spoiler] so we can fix it too.

Baghera: Oh yeah, I can send you a clip! I am gonna send you a clip. I just like, kiss [spoiler] for 10 minutes.

Cellbit: Oh. 😐 Yeah. Um, that sounds a little weird. 🫤

Baghera: That's my problem of– when I see a big monster, I don't run, I just go to the monster, you know?

Cellbit: Oh... yeah... Yeah, that's like, kind of a you thing. Like, that's kind of like your psychology problems, right?

Baghera: Yeah. I just like huge monsters that kills me, yep. Yeah, I think you saw it in your RPG, you know?

Cellbit: Whatever floats your boat, I guess. 🫥

[ Full (Uncensored) Transcript ↓ ]

—

Baghera: [Whispers in an echoing voice] Cellbit? I think I bugged your game! I don't know what to do! I cannot leave! Cellbo!!!

Cellbit: Hi!

Baghera: I think I bugged your game, but I'm good! [Laughs]

Cellbit: Oh. Wait, oh wait– Go ahead, what happened, what happened, what happened?

Baghera: I was like "I'm gonna play for 2 hours, it's gonna be so cool game–" it's like 50 hours game! [Laughs]

Cellbit: Yeah it is. Like, the median- the median time for people to- to finish it has been 18 hours.

Baghera: What the fu– No it's- it's an amazing game. I send you a message, I was so emotive, I was like, "Cellbit, you're so good with the game! Oh, I can't wait."

Cellbit: Oh yeah, I have to reply, I haven't read it yet 'cuz–

Baghera: AND YOU JUST DIDN'T REPLY TO ME! [Laughs]

Cellbit: It's been so fcking chaotic this- these last couple days–

Baghera: No, I know, I know–

Cellbit: It's nonstop work, 'cuz we're still fixing bugs, there's like feedback, uh...

Baghera: No no, I understand.

Cellbit: If it's bugged, I'll even like, watch your clip to see what happened with Goliath– [Struggling not to laugh] so we can fix it too.

Baghera: Oh yeah, I can send you a clip! I am gonna send you a clip. I just like, kiss Goliath for 10 minutes.

Cellbit: Oh. 😐

Baghera: Yeah.

Cellbit: Yeah. Um, that sounds a little weird. 🫤

Baghera: That's my problem of– when I see a big monster, I don't run, I just go to the monster, you know?

Cellbit: Oh... yeah... Yeah, that's like, kind of a you thing. Like, that's kind of like your psychology problems, right?

Baghera: Yeah. I just like huge monsters that kills me, yep. Yeah, I think you saw it in your RPG, you know?

Cellbit: Whatever floats your boat, I guess. 🫥

Baghera: Yeah, yeah.

[radiance1]

Alfred Pennyworth has in fact, perhaps, in the slightest of chances.

Picked up his Master's habit of collecting children as if they were on sale.

He was spending his time on one of those rare vacations he decided to take, it was nice, to relax with only the vague overhanging worry of something going wrong back at the manor that he's gotten very good at ignoring.

Only to come across a child bleeding out in an alley, heavily injured.

He would not be able to live with himself if he didn't at least try to help them however he could.

Such is how he acquired a child he later found to be a meta who whished to learn the ways of a butler.

---

Danny had escaped from a GIW compound, after having been handed over by his family a while after his reveal. He felt, completely and utterly betrayed, when it happened. His parents, while hurt, he was at least capable of actually seeing them do it, but never would he have thought Jazz would do so as well.

They did it so happily, that he wondered if letting him go really was the greatest thing to happen to this family.

He chained, muzzled, all the ways to bind him they pulled all the stops too, knowing how dangerous he was. He wouldn't have even done anything then, too stunned by his families apart willingness at handing him over to the government.

He hated them.

He hated them so much.

The GIW facility was a terrible, cold, unfeeling place. One where they drilled thoughts into his head again and again until he found himself unconsciously repeating them when his head felt empty, one where his body gained a new mark day by day and pushed through tests, he had no clue of even hoping to comprehend what they would gain out of it.

It was a cold, unfeeling place. Placed in a cell of white and nothing else, with low walls and chains binding his body in place until the time came for another experiment.

It was a room he grew used to. One he even held some kind of strange, twisted affection for.

It was a room that held a tiny piece of safety, of rest. It was a room that taught him to hate.

A deep, powerful, disgusting, twisting hatred that crawled from the depths of his cells, corrupting his blood and carving itself deep into his bones. Forcing it's out of his pores until it practically oozed from his flesh.

It drowned his mind, tainting each and every thought, every memory, every dream, every waking moment until he could feel nothing but hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate.

When he was taken out of that he could feel nothing, with the drugs swimming their way through his blood that snapped the thin string keeping him between a person and an emotionless puppet.

He thinks that's what the GIW thinks he is.

And when he was placed back in that room, he could only hate.

It was a cycle. Stuck between feeling either nothing or hatred.

He hated feeling nothing, it made him feel like he wasn't real. Like it snapped the thread that held him between what a real person was and a dream.

So, he allowed himself to drown deep into his hatred. Until the white walls of his far to small room seemed to fade, until whatever sound he could have heard became nothing but dull noise.

Until the passage of time seemed to become just a blink.

He didn't know what day it was, when he saw it. Saw them. He didn't know the time, the date, the day, the hours. He knew nothing.

But he could recognize his family. Recognize one of the objects of his intense hatred that he forced his thoughts too. The people who willingly gave him up just like that and one of the causes for his current life.

He didn't know why they showed him them, he felt it some sick, utterly cruel joke. A joke he didn't know the punchline for, a joke the universe sent his way to make his life all the more miserable.

There were multiple of them. Multiple clones of his family. Som within test tubes, some being pulled out from the tubes, some walking around in lab coats. A waste of talent, they called it in his dad's case, a waste of intelligence in his mother's, and a waste of intellect in his sister's case.

His original family was already dead, he was told. Replaced by clones, clones that took over the legal decision to change his guardianship. Clones walking around twisting and desecrating his family.

'At least it was painless.' One of the clones said, talking with his mother's face. 'Far more than they deserved for having keeping a thing like him' spoken by his father's imposter.

The drugs pumping through his system to keep him calm, to keep him feeling nothing was suddenly pierced through by an intense feeling of horror, hate and self-loathing.

He should've known it wasn't his family. He should've done more! More to protect them! To keep them safe! The could've still been alive if he just knew.

In that moment, watching imposters speaking, walking, talking, breathing, with his families faces. He exploded. Exploded with a power fueled by nothing but his intense hatred for every. Single. Living being in this goddamn facility.

He killed whoever stood in his way. Managing to get his hands on relatively newly designed weapon, an ectoplasmic scythe (that also apparently could revert into an everyday item). Which he used to rip and tear throughout the entirety of the facility. He got injured, of course, he couldn't dodge everything, but he didn't care.

A body stuck between life and death, incapable of fully going one way or the other no matter what happened. Gifted supernatural powers fueled by wrath and twisting hatred and a weapon made by man yet in the range of the supernatural.

They didn't stand a change. He killed them all. No matter who it was, man, woman, clone. He didn't, couldn't care. He could only kill, only maim, only hurt.

And that's what he did.

It was then, when the facility was blanketed with silence tainted by despair, death and hysteria. When previously white walls were covered by blood, and the halls turned into rivers of blood and corpses. That he broke down, the overwhelming hatred he felt replaced by relief then sadness then self-loathing.

His family didn't give him up! But they were killed. Kill because of him. He couldn't stand being in this place, anymore. His body felt as if it were moving on unseen strings as it walked through the halls, the scythe shrinking back what it was when out of combat, his mind too occupied by thoughts and feelings.

It walked through a portal, one to the ghost zone, and then promptly into another portal and spat him out into an alleyway. Which he then promptly collapsed and curled into a ball, curing the shrunken scythe in his palm and he was out like a light.

A few days after he woke up, he found himself growing attached to the human that found him in that alleyway. An old man, maybe, but a nice one. He didn't want to meet anyone, besides that man, so he turned invisible when anyone else come into contact with him.

Alfred Pennyworth.

It was a name he clung onto mentally and a man he clung onto physically as well. He wanted to be like that man, someone so nice and caring, someone who didn't mind that he turned invisible at the sing of another person, who let him cling onto him both invisible and not whenever he wanted to.

He did panic when he heard Alred saying his vacation was over, and such that he had to leave. He didn't want to be left alone again, he didn't know what he would do if he was left alone again.

Until Afred said we were going home.

We. As in, him plus another. Alfred plus Danny.

Home.

Heat blossomed in his chest, seeming to replace the constant, low hum of hate sitting beneath him skin.

Home.

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

Eramis Executors are up in arms that our favorite, bitter, lesbian crab didn’t receive a bullet to her head to no one’s surprise. What happened to the overarching themes involving forgiveness and mending the wounds of the past to build a better future for everyone resonating with people? Does the Traveler and what it has been representing for 10 years mean nothing when it comes to Eramis? Were we supposed to abandon the power of friendship? Is punishment with no consideration the only way of dealing with those who have committed wrong acts that people know of?

[moeblob]

Nines: ... you make a solid case, Sixty.