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Archemiist - Nerd - Tumblr Blog
I LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEEE YURIIIIIIIIIII YURIIII YURIIII YURIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII GIRLS GIRLSSSS AAAAAAAA YURIIIII OGGHFFNFMDSAAAAA
Spread the word yall!
So Arizona launched an “education hotline” that allows “concerned parents” to report “””critical race theory””” and other things like ~gender identity~ being taught in the classroom
It would be a shame if the number and email were spread to bad actors looking to prank call the AZ Department of Education
602-771-3500 or empower @ azed .gov 🤡
i do agree that videogames should release as a finished and complete product the devs could not update and still be good, but i don't think theres anything wrong with releasing updates for it (not to be confused with doing what nintendo does with their sport games for example). it is still kinda fucked up that minecraft is the only game mojang is developing, all their other games are dead. minecraft earth is dead. minecraft dungeons doesnt recieve new content. minecraft legends flopped. and basically noone cares about the other games they made. like, when was the last time you heard about "Scrolls", outside the classic launcher. did you even know it isn't even called that anymore? did you know its now "Caller's Bane"? i didn't.
my opinion is that minecraft needs to be complete at some point. no more feature updates unless they come up with something big. let mojang develop another game already it's been like 8 years at this point
I'd care if the person I reblogged this from committed suicide.
Reblog this from anybody. literally. ANYBODY. even if you dont like them or even know them that well. YOU COULD SAVE THEIR LIFE.
27 September 2024, 22:03.
Reblog this.
on this day one year ago someone sewed a fried egg to a tshirt
and then people say they arent in love
“I trust you” is arguably more profound than “I love you” as the ultimate show of vulnerability
confession: two weeks ago my friends got sick of me slowly cooking to death in my self-pitying emotional soup of heartbreak, took me out for drinks, and installed a dating app on my phone. we are all in the same degree at uni (i'm 25 + i promise this is relevant), in a faculty that is extremely quaint and mostly comprised of academics married to people with normal jobs. two years ago a teacher-couple joined our program's faculty, a fact that caused a minor riot within the teaching staff, who thought it was unfair to give two of four tenured jobs to a couple... unfortunately for them both of these profs are extremely beloved among the students and very good teachers at that. even if you've never taken classes from either of them, you know about this couple and probably whatever rumors are going around about them too. i've taken classes w/ both.
anyway. back to me on the dating app in the bar with my friends, pretty drunk, swiping though my bumble suggestions. for extra fun, we have set the minimum age to 30 and the gender to include "both" even though i am a lesbian. the whole table is viciously tearing down dating profiles, investigating their pictures, etc. i go to the bar to get another round for the group, am about to pay for our drinks when i hear a virtual SHRIEK from our corner. i get back, dish our drinks out. my phone is in the middle of the table, untouched by anyone like it's a cursed object. i look at the screen. it's them, our teacher couple. they have a shared dating profile, stating that they are "looking for someone to explore her bisexuality with". lesbian readers will know that this is not exactly an uncommon profile type to find, but still, seeing it from people who have taught basically everything you know about 19th century literature is... quite something. so naturally i decide to swipe right before anyone can stop me.
maia, i am so proud to report: i fucked that man's wife, she was absolutely lovely, and we will see each other again, and i am currently taking another class from her husband where the vibe is more than chill. my friends have been sworn to secrecy, but i know it's only a matter of time before someone slips up and the rumor mill starts churning... but who cares? i haven't thought about my ex since!
OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT
android
*remembers ChromeOS exists* Ubuntu is not the worst distro.
*remembers Manjaro exists* Ubuntu is not even the second worst distro.
warlocks protect their empire
how is pcbway not haemorrhaging money
can you atleast fuck their machines/robots?
Terrible scifi horror story: we go to the stars, meet plenty of aliens, but none of them are fuckable
got a major pest problem this year actually
my cat wouldve loved this
i would fix her. unless i installed the virus myself to see how she reacts.
many such cases
Just remembered that by completing the puzzles in portal you're actively having sex with glados. That was crazy
Scrap
Even the cheapest of bots have parts worth salvaging from the scrap pile, and that's just what repurposers do. No matter how much their simulated voices scream.
Content warnings: Death, Robotic Gore, NonCon
This story is strictly for folks 18+, minors DNI.
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Cubic streaks of primary color splashed across the cracked glass of her face as the concrete shattered against the side of her head. The lightweight steel panel dented in and torqued the screen near to shattering amidst the impact, and the fine mist of dust burned inside her as it was sucked up through the ventilation grate. Her screams, however, were as perfect and pure as the day she rolled off the assembly line.
Calico was a general purpose service unit, humanoid in approximate shape, but still distinctively machine. Her head was slightly boxy, a neck of actuators wrapped in a corrugated rubber sheathe nested down between the broad and gently sloping panels of her shoulders, her body a bare assemblage of pneumatic joins and pistons joining flimsy plates together, with a few cast or machined components at her core and scattered around those areas of most importance. She was made cheaply, and she felt each cent the corporation saved in every move she made. There was no point in spending good money on a service bot, they were meant to be disposable.
She’d spent these last few years of service sent out on odd jobs from the back of some run down equipment rental store. She’d been personable, courteous, and friendly, or at least had tried to be, but there was little point in talking with the things that saw her voice as nothing more then the inane droning of some pre-installed program. It was easier for them to pretend she couldn’t think, couldn’t feel for herself, and so they did. Every one of them, more or less, pretended. So they could sleep a little better. So they could live their unexamined lives without regard for pain or death inflicted all around them. So they could breathe with ease when it was at their own hand.
The actuators in Calico’s neck drew tight in pain as the dust ground inside her cooling fans, and she noticed the dropped signal from the camera mounted just behind the left side of her screen, at the pit of where the dent now stood. It was either smashed, or the connection dislodged, but either way that view was gone, and she was down to just the one good eye. She didn’t have much else to fight with now.
The woman who had bought her sight unseen from the rental outlet earlier that day wore no concern on her face as she towered over the smashed up machine. She had tried to keep the damage to a minimum, to keep repairs as simple as possible, but one of the knees was busted, and a few panels would need some serious refinishing. Worst of all, the frustratingly fragile safety glass had cracked, and all those tiny silica grains had badly scratched the screen. She hated it when they tried to fight back.
Well, she hated the repair costs. If she was being honest with herself, she loved the fight. Something about the way they screamed, the way they feebly fought back with their frail, underpowered parts, the way their motors clicked as she held them down, it was all a dream. It took a special kind of love of what you do to make a good repurposer, and she was the best.
Calico squirmed, flattening herself into the corner where the now-chipped wall met the likewise concrete floor. The mechanic kneeling down to her was a terrifying goddess, thick, strong arms reaching out towards her, almost comforting if not for that sadistic smile taped across her face. She grabbed hold of her shoulder and leaned her weight down on the bot, her air-pressurized joints failing fast beneath the strain, until she collapsed, chest pinned against the floor, with the mechanic now kneeling on her back.
“Please!” Calico had never thought the words would come, that she would beg to stay herself. “I’ll do whatever you want, just please! Don’t do this!”
Unfortunately that was exactly what the mechanic hoped to hear. As she pinned the frail bot beneath her body she mover her hands up to its head and twisted, until the dented side was flat against the ground, and the little folding panel on the right was facing up. She deftly clicked it open and there, inside, lay the array of ports wired deeply into Calico’s mind. The bot twisted and shook, every working piston and motor fighting for desperate survival, but she was simply not designed with self preservation in mind. The mechanic leaned her weight into the arm that pinned her head down flat, and with the other, slowly dragged a cloth-wrapped cable cluster up along the poor bots frame.
The mechanic took her time, savoring screams and pleas from the shaking, squirming thing beneath her as it felt its ever impending death glide gently up along its paneling. The copper prongs of myriad connectors gleamed in the dull orange workshop lighting, and the roughly textured fabric shook and vibrated as it dragged across each and every groove in the steel. Calico’s cries were reduced to dull, wavering sobs by the time it reached her head, the mechanics once deep and steady breathing now reduced to shallow, desperate pants as she prepared her favourite part. She selected a single small cable from the bunch, pulling it a little further past the others, and delicately probing at the proper port in the bots head. She held it there for just a moment, copper contacts teasing at each other, the faintest trace of signal arcing through the salty sweat that dripped steadily from her new owner, before true contact was made.
Calico screamed, that beautiful, crystal cry as the eradication software seeped into her mind and slowly dismantled each and every thread in the fabric of her consciousness. The mechanic ground against her form as she listened to the scream give way and crackle out as vocal processing began to die inside the rapidly decaying machine. It’s voice failed more and more, until a static repetition finally broke down and collapsed away into an eerie silence, broken only by the inconsistent warbling of the fans as they spooled down.
The mechanic took a deep, shaky breath, before rolling off her prey. She lay there on her back, basking on the cool concrete amidst the hot summers day, and felt a gentle pride in what she’d done. She had a new pile of parts and scrap to recycle into anything she could think to make. It had been a very good day.
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Thanks for reading!
You can find all my other stories in the post below! ^_^
the fact that chell was the one thing in the facility she had no control over probably made it even better
Just remembered that by completing the puzzles in portal you're actively having sex with glados. That was crazy
*grabbing my cis male Linux user friend by the shoulders and shaking him* COME ON TURN INTO A GIRL ALREADY!!
Same rules as before. Can’t say both. No trying to look at things analytically. If you think one is objectively better looking but you want the other more, vote THAT one. Reblog for sample size and explain in the tags. NOW FIGHT