#touch bar

[123myit]

Fix MacBook Touch Bar

This video will show you how to Fix touch bar issues on a MacBook Pro. This is helpful if the touch bar is unresponsive or failing to start. Command: sudo pkill TouchBarServer Step 1 First step is the most basic and it’s a Restart of your Mac. Go to Apple Menu, Restart take the tick out of Reopen windows when logging back in. And click Restart. It sounds easy but a restart can sort out most…

[inkskinned]

i had a dream last night that i organized a tumblr meetup and we all agreed to go to a local bar together. so i go to the bar but it was a really busy night and i didn't want to ask every stranger "are u here for tumblr reasons" bc that's embarrassing and i'm shy. so i just got a drink and felt very awkward & hoped someone would approach me. tried to look inviting and like i was from tumblr but not like i was "from tumblr". when i left some girl stopped me to ask if i was there for the meetup but i was too shy and asked what's tumblr?

in the dream i went home to make a post about how nobody showed up to the tumblr meetup but my entire dash was people saying they'd gone to the bar but were too fucking shy to admit to being on tumblr so we'd all just had a drink and gone home

[momotonescreaming]

Cooking Youtuber Steve; who has series where he makes good family friendly meals, dishes for picky eaters, tips for everyday cooking. As well as series where he tries to make historical dishes, food and drinks from games and TV.

DnD Youtuber Eddie; who has a long actual play series, videos about his characters and the world he's built. Videos about tips for your role-playing, getting immersed. A series where he tries other TTRPG's and board games.

Dustin persuades Steve to make videos about medieval inspired, DnD friendly meals. And because it does actually seem like a fun challenge, he does it. Dustin looks horrifically smug about it when the videos are a hit, the bastard. (Steve will make him eat something gross as payback. Its fine. Gotta keep him humble.)

And because obviously, Eddie sees the videos. He's always on the search for good DnD shit. But the guy is so fucking hot Eddie doesn't quite know what to do with himself. Except daydream about those eyes, and that hair, and those hands.

So Eddie records himself trying (and only sort of failing) to recreate the food. It comes out sort of ugly but actually nice tasting, so Eddie calls it a win. References the Hot Chef Steve in his video, adds a link to his channel, and tries not to feel his heart beating out of his chest when he sends @'s him with a link to the video. His channel is way bigger than Eddie's, he probably won't see it, Eddie's fine.

Except the Hot Chef does see it, and Eddie sort of loses his mind when he gets a comment or a message from him, thanking Eddie for giving his recipe a go, and giving him credit for the recipe. Eddie's not fine at all, this guy is way out of his league, and Eddie can feel the crush bubbling up under his ribcage, and Oh Fuck he's messaging Eddie.

[pandorem]

There’s something about the fact that ghosts can’t even truly feel anything and yet Charles is so constantly physical with Edwin. The way when Charles breaks down at the beach Edwin tries to reciprocate that physical comfort in return. It’s possible to read it as a lack of thought from the creators but it is so much more interesting to look at it from a character perspective.

Also do you ever think about how they had physical forms in hell and thus they could both almost certainly feel each other for the first time in thirty years? That the physical comfort that Charles gave, both after finding Edwin and after Edwin confesses, are probably the first non painful contact Edwin has had in almost a century? The fact that when Charles cradles Edwin’s face in his hands, when he held his shoulders and told him Edwin is the most important person in the world to him, Edwin could actually feel that? Ha ha. Because. Because I do.

[bakudekublogblog]

kacchan just touching izuku is sending me into a spiral idk how I’m gonna survive when they actually hold hands

[crushedsweets]

Why is my bisexual Toby ship art always like this

[emily-charlton]

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... J'onn broke the news that Danny thinks he's going to be forced into combat in exchange for his medical care. Everyone disliked that™.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

COME GET YOUR NEW ART HERE 💥🍳!!💥 IT'S FIBERCRAFT!!Shoutout to @rainbowbeansprout for crocheting a fic accurate injured ghost Danny!! That's outstanding!!

💚👻👽👻💚

So, Wally broke all of the bones in his legs yesterday.

Which is…not ideal. Still. He’s pretty used to it at this point, though, and he’s already mostly healed.

It’s just that. Well.

…The rest of healing is kind of…time-consuming.

So Wally’s in basketball shorts and a mask and a t-shirt he’d started using as pajamas when he was in college and he’s on the med floor of the Watchtower, and yet another physical therapist is helping him bend his leg back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, because he’d tripped in the middle of the Speedforce and busted everything hip-down.

So. (Back, and forth. Back, and forth. Back…) This sucks.

“Do we have to do this every time?” Wally asks, as if there isn’t a team of medical professionals kept on hand to deal with Superpower-wrought Super Medical Problems.

“Do you have to shatter your legs every time?” the PT asks back wryly, which, hey! The pressure pressing up against his bare foot is an additional stressor to the sass. “Bend this more for me, Flash. You can do it.”

Wally grumbles, and pretends the angle his leg is bending at doesn’t make him wince. Wow is he going to have to build his flexibility back up again.

The physical therapy room looks just like any other gym, basically; a lot of squishy mats in playful colors, a lot of grippy tape; a LOT of wipeable vinyl surfaces that can be sanitized at a moment’s notice. It smells kind of weird and plasticky and kind of like alcohol cleaner.

It’s not his favorite room in the Watchtower, but, eh. It could be way worse. What’s unusual is the whirrr of the door opening and closing in one of the private care rooms for another patient, since, you know...HIPAA and all that. Wally assumes. Or is it costume confidentiality once you leave Earth's atmosphere...?

Usually everyone knows who’s stopping in for PE through the sheer power of the Justice League gossip groupchats. (There’s at least nine. Wally’s in four of them. He aspires to be in two more by April.) There hasn’t been a big fight that requires long-term medical care in a while, and there’s no one Wally can think of who’d need this kind of recovery.

Something’s buzzing at the outside of his awareness, though. It sounds kind of…

Wally perks up. “Hey, the alien kid’s here!”

The PT holding Wally up at the waist hums. Her name is Cindy, and judging from their previous conversations, she thinks that Wally is the dumbest man alive. “There’s a million of those, Flash. Which one?”

“The one who bit Superman,” Wally adds.

Judging by the face Cindy makes, this clarifies nothing.

“Most recently,” Wally stresses, carefully not wincing as his leg gets stretched out again, only to be pulled back into position as tightly as before. “OW. Cindy, you’re killing me.”

Cindy makes a strangled noise. She asks: “What, again?” which is how Wally remembers that he got torn back out of the time stream not all that long ago, and it may be a big gauche to joke about your own death with the people who care about it.

Whoops. Wally winces. “…Nevermind?”

The other PTs make various fussy and annoyed noises, but the alien kid is wheeled onto the other side of the medical floor’s only gym. (The actual training floors are on another level. Wally wishes he was there. Alone.)

(Without four PTs clinging to his legs at all times.)

Wally waves. It’s a nice enough gesture, and now that the alien-phantasm-turned-flesh-and-blood-boy is more physically embodied than he used to be, the boy even deigns to carefully wave back.

The kid’s PTs—Wally thinks at least one of them is from the team that supervises Bart and his super-powered-leg-problems—end up encouraging the alien kid’s chair round to the soft mats where the kid can lay down. He ends up in the exact same position Wally is—horizontal on the floor, legs forcibly pinwheeled by enthusiastic but firm PTs.

Wally can physically feel the kid’s astonishment and discontentment buzzing in the air as he figures out what’s being done to him. Wally can’t help but laugh.

The kid angles his head towards the speedster. His face still looks—well, it looks…bad. It looks bad, unhealed and still threatening to weep neon green body fluids; there’s a wet, living crack running up and down his face that makes eye contact kind of hard. His hands are all spidery—this kid can probably hold and grip things, but the previous breakage have left his hands a little too easy to splay, a little too oddly-angled. He’s too thin to keep himself fully upright for long. When he looks at you, his eyes shake like a poorly lined-up television signal.

Martian Manhunter had said that he’d once looked like a healthy, happy human child. His current form is a reflection of the injuries he’d experienced since.

...What a thing for a kid to go through. Wally wouldn’t wish this sort of injury on anyone.

“­Alright, up you go,” the PT above him—Rhys, Wally remembers at the very last second—orders, and Wally is prompted to let the man help him back upright. “Over to the bars for you. You think your legs are up to bearing that kind of weight as you try out walking?”

“…Sure,” Wally lies to Rhys. It’ll be fine. Probably. By the time he gets over there, his legs might have already speed-healed by then. “Hand me the—?”

“Yeah, yeah, here’s the crutches. Don’t destroy yourself trying to make this happen, okay?”

So Wally gets set up at the glorified playground equipment in his least restrictive gym clothes, one long iron bar under one arm, and one long iron bar under the other. Two full-size physical therapists spot him as the speedster completes the most strenuous task available to him at the moment: walking across a very short distance without putting his full weight on his legs.

Wally puts one shaking leg in front of the other. The steps are slow. The urge to zoom to the end of the little bowling lane he’s stuck in—and therefore shatter his legs under the speedforce, again—is irresistibly temping.

Healing sucks. And Wally’s even got the longer end of the stick.

In the end, Wally sticks the landing. He is unreasonably sweaty. He is miserable. But he makes it to the end. Every one of the witnessing PTs applauds as if this is a great success. It’s literally not. It’s the inevitable result of pushing himself too far for the third time this year.

A question buzzes through the air, fluffing through Wally’s hair and the little fine hairs up and down his body. It’s nothing but inquisitive—whatareyoudoing whatareyoudoing?

Wally lets the PT maneuver a chair underneath him. It gives him enough breathing room to turn his upper torso, and he ends up catching the eye of the little alien kid in the corner. He’s sat on a yoga ball, two members of his medical team and one of the kids’ PTs trying to get his attention back to his exercises.

“Hey,” Wally realizes suddenly. “Your casts are gone!”

The kids’ legs are actually bare, which Wally’s never seen before. They’re twiggy, sure, stretched taut over a bone frame, and discolored and pale, but they’re legs. Wally hadn’t even known the alien had possessed legs until he’d formed a physical body months and months ago.

“Dude, that’s great!”

Happy/smug/proud vibrates through the room, making Wally’s teeth buzz. The kid smiles through a half-split lip, and bounces on the yoga ball ever so slightly.

“Good,” the kid says, surprising Wally, his PTs, and the kid’s usual medical team. He was talking already?! He thought J’onn had said—

“Hurt?” the boy asks, concern/concern flooding through the air. Oh. Right. He’s probably here for his busted legs; it would make sense that by virtue of the setting, Wally would be injured too.

And, sure, Wally busted his legs, but he at least heals with all the swiftness of the speedforce. “Meh.” Wally waves off the question. “I’m fine. It’ll be quick for me; some rehab and some lunch and a few days off, and I’ll be in shipshape.”

Wait. Wally’s eyes scrunches up. Is using wordplay appropriate with this kid…?

“Pain?” the kid asks, and turned his attention to the closest member of his medical team. “He pain?”

The medical professional sighs, which finally clues Wally in that the man is no longer masked. Hey, the kid is out of medical isolation! “The Flash has his own medication, thankfully. His doctors know what to do.”

The kid frowns. He doesn’t get it. He looks at Wally, and he looks at the staffer, who shrugs. “It’s the usual indicator word he uses for pain medication. He’s wondering if you’re hurt enough to need some.”

Wally hums. On one hand, it’s sweet that the alien kid is worried about him. It’s a huge step upwards from the alien who spent all his time hiding in abandoned meeting rooms and occasionally biting Superheroes.

On the other hand, the kid doesn’t just look worried that Wally might not be getting care; he looks scared.

Something happened to this kid. Something he can't shake off.

Wally breathes in, and breathes out.

—And breathes in sharply when Cindy starts wiggling his feet. She doesn’t respond at all to his glare, because she is a professional, and he is not a big baby of a superhero.

Mean.

“I’m fine,” Wally finally responds, trying to alleviate the kid’s concerns through sheer vibes-telepathy alone. Who knows if it’s working, but it makes Wally feel better about trying at the very least. “I’ve got my own team to fix me up, and they do a good job of taking care of me. Even if they’re bullying me at my most vulnerable.”

“Anything for you, boss,” Cindy volleys back cheerfully. “Gimme your other leg.”

The tension in the air slowly dissipates. The kid doesn’t stop shooting occasional looks at the unadorned, half-out-of-uniform Flash, but he does let Bart’s little PT team get to working on stretching out his previously-bound now-physical legs and getting him upright—if only for a few seconds at a time, balanced precariously by humans who actually touch his back and arms and hips and legs.

Wally’s session wraps up before the kid’s does. He’s not in any rush. He gets onto the walking crutches Rhys leaves out for his temporary use and lopes over to watch, occasionally hooting and applauding when the kid pulls off something no one’d been sure he could do.

The double handed high-five Wally offers him at the end is punctuated with shaky eye contact, two working hands, and a green-threaded beaming grin.

*

Diana cheerfully digs into her kebab lunch, plastic cutlery pushed to their maximum limit before threatening to break under her prodigious strength. “You know, Batman,” she starts, beaming, “My charge gave me his name the other day.”

Bruce sets down his muenster-ham-and-whole-wheat sandwich mid-bite. “I’ll need to hear everything,” he says immediately, to which Diana tuts.

“Oh, Batman, I could never break his trust like that,” she says, sweet as anything. She finesses a bite of lamb from the skewer and takes a neat bite.

“…Wonder Woman,” Batman says.

“Hm?”

“Diana.”

“Is there something you needed, Bruce?” Diana asks, pleased with herself. There genuinely is very little that could be done with a vague description of a now-altered human form and a first name alone; besides, she genuinely does feel that hearing the boy’s name come from others’ lips would be upsetting for him. Danny offered his name to Diana alone, and so it shall remain until hers alone he offers it to others.

Still, she is not above bragging.

“I need information.” Bruce’s face underneath his mask is stone.

Diana dips a second chunk of lamb into a little container of tzatziki sauce. “Well, then,” she points out, “Shouldn’t you spend some time building rapport with my charge, then?”

The feared Batman of Gotham, father of a half-dozen highly trained heroes, bristles like a wet cat. The demeanor is almost comical. He knows what he looks like to non-Gothamite children. He knows his suit will make this fight for common familiarity an uphill battle.

Diana smugly works through her lunch and ignores Bruce’s silent brooding as he does the same.

[doesephs]

art block is genuinley sending me insane. how do i get out of this how come not even neil looking right

[redditreceipts]

straight man goes into a gay bar and gets upset when a gay man flirts with him, but no lesbian woman

also funny that he gives a trigger warning for the NHS

[rockwgooglyeyes]

It's This Moment (or Nothing)

One of the biggest things that I have run into over the past day with Blink, Gone is the way that it feels incomplete and that is something I still stand by. This could be something completely purposeful, meant to illustrate that the round wasn't ever going to be a legitimate competition anyways, intended from the beginning as a lure for Hyuna and Mizi, to add extra emotional effect to the cliffhanger, or perhaps it really is one half of a wider whole (in a more localized sense than it being one part of the whole series, anyways). I don't really know which I think is more likely, at this point, because I'm not sure enough about any of my theories on that front to make real predictions. I still believe that Mizi will end up on her own when this all finished, all of the people she ever loved dead and gone, the bodies littered at her feet.

With the "special guests" I presume that Hyuna and Mizi will be forced to go up against each other. My friend Zen, (@verdantlights) said that hy thinks that it'll end up being a Hyunaluka round where Hyuna is set to win and then a Hyunamizi round where Hyuna is set to lose (edited because i got the order wrong and zen corrected me lmao). I agree with the idea that, at this point, it's damage control. They successfully lured Mizi (and by extension, Hyuna) in with Till, killed Till and now they're going to make their hostages perform for their lives, as is their brand.

One of the most interesting parts of Blink Gone, for me, is how this was presumably all planned from the start. Zen mentioned something that made me realize this yesterday, that this is the 50th season of Alien Stage. There's no way they would let it get this rowdy with rebels and disrupted rounds unless they were letting it happen, because it was planned from the start, because they were trying to tie up loose ends (Hyuna). Not only that but this round in particular was undoubtedly planned from the beginning, with the amount of preparation that went into it (the giant billboards of Ivan, the chanting of the crowd, the song itself). Till was ranked 2, it was always going to end up this way, Luka's superiority reinforced and his opponent dead on the floor. (btw I'm coming back to Luka. There's gonna be another fucking post just you wait). The way that they used Till's triggers against him, they drugged both of the performers but only gave Till enough to last him halfway through, forced Till to perform against Luka right after Round 6, where he lost one of the people in his life that was most important to him, and then rubbing salt into his horrible fresh wounds.

This is also one of the only rounds where Mizi is one of the POV characters that we have no mentions of Sua, at all. Perhaps that's merely because Mizi wasn't the focus and by extension, neither was Sua, but in another way, you could argue that it's because someone else was busy haunting the narrative: Ivan.

It kinda fucking hurts that the only way we really got to see Ivan was two ways- a direct flashback to the kiss from CURE, a explicit representation of the trauma that Ivan left Till with, and the billboards/Luka manipulations where he mimics Ivan in order to get Till on the back foot. And the thing is, it works. Ivan, despite his every intention otherwise, has become a trauma for Till, the way he thought he never could. To a degree, I was happy about this, because it proved Ivan wrong, that he would just be forgotten in a blink, but it hurts as well, because him only being used as a weapon against Till only reinforces his beliefs about himself that he is a monster and a negative impact on others. He would view himself being used against Till as a bad thing, that he hurt Till when he never intended to, rather than seeing it for what it is- an explicit sign that he was far more important to Till than he previously thought.

(Also something driving me up a wall right now is the way that one of my friend's described the lyrics of Blink, Gone as being in reference to the way that one moment Ivan was there, and the next he was gone, because Till took advantage of Ivan's presence and didn't know how much he needed it until it was gone and I'm sorry I'm going to go scream some more now.)

One thing I've talked about with friends a lot the past day is the way that, if Till is truly dead, then what was Ivan's character even for? And while narratively, it wouldn't make sense to kill TIll here with all of the potential he has and where his arc is going, one thing that @pwippy pointed out to me is how it makes a lot of sense thematically. Alien Stage is a universe full of suffering and pain for humans, forced to perform until they literally die on stage, all for the entertainment of the audience. It's not even meant as a way of exerting control or oppressing them, though it serves that purpose, because why would the seygein bother to oppress something that can't even fight back? Why go to the trouble of controlling something that is just a pet, whose cries are the fuel for a new age?

For Till to die now, reaching out for this glimmer of light when he is an animal caged, surrounded by enemies and bombarded with triggers of his suffering and pain, it would only be fitting. Another confirmation that life isn't fair, especially not in a system that is actively working against you and your attempts at happiness. Yet another sign that none of them were supposed to live very long, that even if they won, they wouldn't be around for much longer anyways. Now, it wouldn't necessarily be in character for Till, as he wants to live and he wants to fight, but he got to see one of the people he loved most in his dying moments, just like Sua and Ivan did. (Thank you this post for grabbing me by the throat and squeezing). In this world of pain and suffering, perhaps death is a mercy. If Till is truly dead, then he no longer a tool for his oppressors, he is free of their control. For Ivan and Sua both of their deaths were mercies to them- Ivan was able to die for the one he loved, as was Sua, and neither of them were forced to live in a world without their beloved.

So, while it might not be in character for Till to die, it makes sense within the themes and the established mechanisms of the universe, and it hammers home just how much more Mizi has to lose, even at this point where she thinks she's lost it all.

Mizi, who at the beginning, was the only one of these characters filled with innocence and hope, Mizi, the apparent protagonist of this story- at the end, she will be alone and she will know the true lengths of cruelty, with all that which she has ever loved destroyed.

[rennyrose]

So is it common for people to say your art makes them wanna work out? Because I’ve seen like 3 other people say your trigun art makes them wanna work out.

Well I can’t say for sure if it’s common but I do see it occasionally xD

[bowenoke]

havent watched/read dungeon meshi yet but im starting to understand via tumblr post that it's not a story where normal people eventually do profane things out of desperation but is in fact a story where a handful of freaks who are desperate to do some truly unnatural things give in as soon as they're given the opportunity. jury is still out over whether marcille and falin kiss though

[footballshowrot]

intricate rituals etc

[alexibeeart]

Ed Teach being clingy and Stede Bonnet happily and reassuringly indulging is something that can be so personal

[slayedpoet]

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