#Man-Machine Interaction

[smellroy]

second best BROTP of The Terror

[cent-scratchnsniff]

doodles and stuff. struggled with painting until i gave up

[eagle-head-charge]

THIS IS MY MOUR!!!

There are many like him, but THIS IS THE REAL ONE, and HE! IS! MINE! Mwehehehehe...

HE IS A TRUE PATRIOT JUST LIKE ME, AND IF ANYONE DARES TO HURT MY PUMPKIN, IT'S LIKE DECLARING WAR ON AMERICA ITSELF!!!!

AND I'LL KILL ANYONE IN A WAR AGAINST AMERICA!!!!!!!!!!!! RAAGAHGHHGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

pspspsps @medic-and-spy. he went feral on the blog

[goldentigerfestival]

Decided to translate the Fluri section in the 30th anni book for the question, "who is your favorite duo & couple?", voted in by fans and reaching second place overall, because the first and third answers were too adorable. 😌

Fan answers for their choice:

● They've been together since childhood and are inseparable. No matter how far apart they are, they're always together in their hearts, which is always heartwarming.

● I feel like the conflict between the two of them, and their clashing senses of justice, create the focal point in the work of "Vesperia".

● It's really wonderful how they're not reserved with each other, and how when they're together, they become uncomposed and childish.

[dysonbradleyreblogs]

Jacksepticeye being on tumblr is crazy. I follow him now and he responds to like everyone who speaks his name. Apparently he's had a tumblr since 2014. I didn't even realize he had a tumblr until he came back. What da hell are you doing here !!

[tj-crochets]

I want to be working on making the goat in a dress but I am recovering from a moderate allergic reaction and should sit still for a bit, so instead, please send me asks about sewing or crocheting! Or ask for pattern links if there's anything in particular you are looking to make, I love finding plushie patterns

[fluxedbuds]

hi that one anon that went insane over flux buddies art that you called larva, your art is so banger i love your ocs

🐠❤️🦀

^ they are married

I straight up had to go check this bc I was like 'why the fuck would I call someone a bug' and it turns out it was because I inexplicably refused to talk about age in a normal way

ANYWAYS thank you!! I love crafting guys I have so many. It's not actually that many but it FEELS like so many

[thawragiya]

But then these very same Americans will turn around and make excuses for the veterans who committed war crimes and the politicians who covered them up and would demonise the middle east that rightfully thinks of America as the genocidal, imperalistic entity it is.

No one is uninvolved when it comes to attacks on their country, but when it's the other way around? Watch as they try their best to exonerate the freaking soldiers themselves “because they were just following orders 🥺” and “Some of them are just doing it to get into college”

is this what it was like in 9/11. trying to reason with people whose entire concept of human decency flies out the window when presented with the possibility of causing the smallest amount of harm to a "terrorist", no collateral damage is too large, no civilian too innocent, no connection too murky for people to deserve to die or be permanently crippled. people citing world war two urban warfare statistics to try to make a bad situation seem less worse and not balking at how fascist they sound

[lizardho]

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about some of the people I interact with. I have a coworker who I am pretty sure is a MAGA type, and she is also a lovely woman who is dreadfully overworked and so good at connecting to patients when they call. I can see the conflict on her face when she talks to me, a gigantic tranny dork who speaks Spanish and affirms the LGBT community, but can also talk to her about her cows and knows about guns and stuff. I can see the fear in the eyes of my former Young Men’s leader when he misgenders me and realizes that I’m not an ideology but a person he has known for a long time. I can see the way my extended family stop and stutter over political discussions when they realize they are talking about me. And I don’t know why but lately it’s just made me think about my neighbor as a kid.

When we moved to Arizona, we moved next door to a lovely retired couple - John and Lucy. John was a veteran of WWII, he had an M.D. and a Ph.D. in radiology, and he LOVED us to pieces. His wife, Lucy, was a sharp and gifted woman - well spoken, very observant, and VERY clever. I just know that she used that cleverness as a mom to great effect, because with my and my siblings she always managed to find a way to send us home with candy and treats for a week despite my dad’s protests. We loved them, growing up, and even though they have long-since passed away I love them still, and I love what I learned from them.

John was, as stated, a WWII veteran. He was enlisted as a rifleman, and later as a front line medic, starting at Point Du Hoc and moving inwards to France and towards the Rhine. He let me do a report on him in 6th grade where he shared war stories with me he had kept to himself his whole life - he said it was out of respect for his friends who didn’t get to come home and tell their stories.

He said he told me because he knew I could respect the memories of his friends.

He showed me his collection of medals, and which he’d kept hidden away in a sock in his attic because he’d feel an immense grief any time he saw them. He had wanted to be a doctor his whole life, prior to being drafted he was studying medicine and had taken the Hippocratic oath to Do No Harm. He saw his medals as a reminder that he had Done Harm.

After telling me his stories he was able to convince himself that while he had Done Harm, it was only because his only other alternative was, to him, cowardice. He chose to be brave even if it meant acting against his Oath because he felt that if he didn’t do it someone else would have to go in his place and he would be responsible for the harm that befell them. I don’t think that’s true, but for him it was and that was something no being on earth could have ever dissuaded him from believing.

He shared wild stories - melee combat on the beach, clearing artillery bunkers, receiving a Purple Heart for being injured in hand-to-hand combat with a Wehrmacht rifleman he said he felt pity for because they were the same age and he had to imagine the man he was fighting had been drafted just like him.

He shared how he was awarded a Silver Star for charging a machine gun nest, but shared that he was most proud of not killing anyone in the process. He threw a grenade with the pin still in it and when the machine gunners jumped to avoid being blown up they were killed by someone else so he didn’t have to do it. He took the machine gun and shot the other machine gun in that French field to pieces so he didn’t have to kill the people operating it. He said they were giving out Silver Stars like candy but I knew he was being modest.

He told me about being redesignated as a medic, about how he crawled for about 500 yards on his belly to rescue an injured tank driver, then threw him over his back and crawled the same 500 yards back (1000 yards total) to treat his injuries. He said he met the man in an Army hospital in England after his spine was broken by a high explosive panzer shell was fired through a hollowed out French farmhouse and landed about 20 feet away from him.

He told me about all the people he helped and saved as a medic, he told me about his work in radiology and research after the war. He showed me a hallway that was quite literally wallpapered with academic honors he’d earned as a researcher. He told me about how his first Fourth of July back was a horror show for him because fireworks and German artillery make very similar sounds. He told me about how he woke up in a cold sweat well over half a century later hearing the screams of German artillery men being burned alive with flamethrowers, or hearing his own voice apologizing to the young German soldier he stabbed in the heart at Point Du Hoc.

He told me that when he was asked to present at a medical conference in Germany 25 years after the war ended that he was so scared he couldn’t step off the plane, and that his wife had to hold his hand and lead/pull him with her. He said he was not scared because he was worried about being triggered, but because he knew that someone somewhere outside of that plane had the course of their life irreparably altered by his military service. That to someone out there he was the cause of immense suffering and harm. That some unwitting waiter could be the son of the Nazi Officer he stabbed in the heart with a 12-inch hunting knife. That some woman asking questions in the audience would be the daughter or widow of a man he sent to judgement with a .30-06. He was scared that they would hate him.

He knew what the Nazi’s had done, he knew better than anyone I’d ever met. He’d watched the documentaries, he’s seen the PoWs returning from camps, he’d seen the civilians massacred and tortured by their regime, but he also knew that among the monsters were people like him - idealistic 20-somethings who only wanted to make the world better and were ripped away from that life by the Nazi war machine. And he spent his whole life mourning the loss of innocence and peace that was forced on so many people by such a corrupt power.

To be honest I don’t know if I could do that, but he could. He told me he could still feel the dead and lost with him, both when he slept and when he woke. He told me he thought he’d go to his grave never having told a word of this to anyone. That the stories of him and his friends and allies would disappear silently with him and those like him. That he had wanted that until he realized that he didn’t have to sell out to share the stories - that he could give the stories away for free to someone who would love the people in them, and not just the content of them. He didn’t want his stories to be used as Patriotic Pornography by some TV network or magazine. He wanted the people he knew to be respected, he wanted their memories to be honored and loved, and he entrusted me, a 12-year-old “boy” to do that.

He told me for years afterwards that after telling me these stories that he slept better than he ever had. That by sharing the stories with someone who could hear Him over the din of victory and glory and honor and revisionistic history. Someone who could see the man in the story and not just see the plot of a battle being won. He wanted to be human, and he wanted the people he saw die to be human too - everyone, not just the people on his side. He wanted someone to see and to know the anguish of having to look someone in the eye as heartblood muddies the ground beneath them and hope that they understand that this was not an act of love or hatred but an act of desperation. To hope that you had just taken out One Of The Bad Ones instead of a medical student or a poet who had been drafted. He wanted me to see how hard he had worked since then to build a world without scarcity, to build a world of peace. He wanted me to know SO badly that the cost of violence, any violence, even necessary violence, is always ALWAYS paid by both parties involved.

I think about the rise of the new right wing - the new Nazi movement’s traction in politics, and I feel sad and scared - the world that Johnathan J Yobaggy, my neighbor, my friend, and my hero, worked SO hard to build is being done away with by people who do not understand the cost of the path they are entering. I can see brief moments of recognition in the eyes of some of the people I mentioned - The former young men’s president who immediately regrets misgendering me and hen he makes eye contact with me and sees Me staring back at him and not a faceless “ideology.” I can hear it in the voice of my uncle who quietly comes up to me to apologize for some homophobic comment he made absentmindedly. I can see it in the eyes of racists and sexists being interviewed on TV when they realize that they didn’t vote for a concept, they voted for a real thing. And honestly, I have mixed emotions about it. Because while I understand frustration with the status quo, the importance of basic human needs like affordable good and rent, and I know the fear that comes with feeling powerless, I also can’t help but grieve the endless wheel of history bringing us back to this God Damned Fucking Place again. I hope we can avoid this fate, not just for our sake but for the sake of everyone who has ever tried to make the world safer. For everyone who has ever tried to make up for human nature, for everyone who has ever placed themselves on the offering plate to protect others from the cruelty they know lies just under the surface of mankind’s tenuous grip on progress. I want SO badly for there to be a solution to this, for the people who idolize the Nazi party and the impact of fascism to see that the price of this path is paid in more than just blood but in soul. That they’re allowing themselves to be devoured too. I want for the centrists and the fence sitters and the idealists who want to “change it from the inside” to see how dangerous our politics have become. I want them to see that they’re losing the things that make them great in exchange for a security blanket that’s now become far far far too small to ever work for them again.

Safety found in the past is already gone, and safety found in the future is only as real as a daydream. That any ideology that promises that by “joining us now we’ll make things rough so we can make things safe in a decade” is a promise made by those who will not have to fight the battles they send you to.

I don’t know if America was ever really great, but as long as John was alive it felt great to me. There is no ideology that can replace a neighbor. No tax plan that can replace a friend. No grocery bill that can replace community and connection. No amount of budget cuts that can replace kindness. No amount of suffering from people I hate that will ever make more love. I don’t know how to make America great, but I know how to make my America great and it is not by selling out integrity and compassion and community and fucking humanity to make eggs and gas cheaper. It is by seeing and hearing the people around me. I’m not Mormon anymore, but I still know the value of mourning with those that mourn and comforting those that stand in need of comfort. I’m not Christian anymore but I still have Eyes That Can See and Ears That Can Hear. I want to make this all stop but I can’t stop the collective power of tens of millions of people so instead I listen to my MAGA coworker tell me about how sick her kid was last week. I make jokes with my Young Men’s leader. I hug my uncle. I let them see me fully, as a human and not an ideology. As a woman and not the concept of gender. As a whole person and not someone who can be easily summarized or boiled down into something short and quippy. And I let them know I can see them fully too, and I can see all their humanity as easily as they can see mine. I just have to hope that this works - that enough people can See and Hear the people in their lives who matter to them to bring them out of their personal world of forms and into the real world.

I am probably, honestly, just spiraling a little bit. I took my ADHD meds today and in addition to helping me focus they make me a little anxious so I doubt things are as bad right now as they seem. But just in case there’s any truth to the way things seem to be going, remember, and I mean this seriously: Be kinder to each other, be gayer, and read more Terry Pratchett.

And for the love of god day hello to your neighbor.

[hexclaimed]

Need more people to interact with this version of Viktor.

[eagle-head-charge]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, MAGGOTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

TRAPPER, MEDIC, ME AND MY LOVELY MOUR WENT TRICK-OR-TREATING TOGETHER!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT WAS SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HALLOWEEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No sign of Merasmus this year. LET'S KEEP IT THAT WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I GOT SO MUCH CANDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@meet-the-trapper-tf2 @medic-on-red @medic-and-spy DID YOU GUYS HAVE FUN?????????? MAKE SURE ALL YOUR CANDY IS AMERICAN!!!!!!!!! NO COMMIE FOODS ALLOWED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[unheavenlycreatures]

sneak preview of next chapter of new perspectives, bc we have reached 11,000 words and the end continues to be nowhere in sight

[mia-can-yap-too]

first year!gojo who avoided you for the longest time when he first came to jujutsu high.

first year!gojo who would not-so-discreetly straight up stare steal glances at you 

first year!gojo who would stutter and stumble over his words whenever you tried to talk to him. it was to be expected, seeing as he hadn't been allowed to interact with anyone outside of his clan before. 

first year!gojo who tried so hard to flirt with you. his only help were two very amused classmates.

“Are you…uh..are you a domain expansion?” he asked, eyes wide and hopeful. 

You stared at him. “What?” 

He cleared his throat. “Because…being around you makes me feel like I accidentally activated mine…or something like that,” his voice lowered with each word. 

Geto was choking on his drink in the background. Shoko was muttering something about losing brain cells.

first year!gojo who had awkwardly begged yaga to assign you both missions together. yaga was too done with everything to refuse. 

first year!gojo who would save you from a curse and then trip over his own feet after. it was not as charming as it seemed. 

first year!gojo who learned after 13 failed attempts that perhaps suguru wasn't the best dating coach and turned to google instead. 

which is why you found him staring at a vending machine with the intensity of a man pondering the universe. 

“What are you doing?” you asked.

He turned dramatically, eyes wide and eyebrows dampened with sweat as if he got caught in the act of a crime.

“I was..uh.. deciding what snack to get. For you. For… romantic purposes.” 

You blinked. “For me? Why? I don't get it?” Because teenagers were very oblivious back in 2013 or whenever this happened.

“I read online that the fastest way to a woman's heart is through her stomach. Or was it a man's heart?” 

first year!gojo who didn't really look you in the eye for two weeks after that. 

eventually, because first year!gojo was so weird around you, you had to ask,

“Why are you so weird around me?”

He opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then did it again. 

His cheeks turned pink. “B-Because you're like… cool. And pretty. And fun. And when I talk to you, my brain turns into Windows XP error noises.” 

You smiled, because this was W rizz back then. “...That's actually kinda cute,” you muttered. 

Gojo.exe stopped working. Geto kept shouting at Shoko for system reboots. 

first year!gojo was a boy who didn't know the true extent of his cursed technique, but was still just as deadly because of his access to wifi and confidence. 

a/n:- thanks to @jeonwiixard for listening to me brainstorm and spam her with messages. is this worthy as the first fic after a break?

@/strangergraphics for divs

[obligatory-name-change]

thinkinf about. nick valentine

[hermitadaymay]

WELCOME TO HERMIT-A-DAY MAY 2025!

Another year, another Hermit-a-Day May! I'm so thrilled to be able to bring this event to you all for the third year in a row.

THE RULES: 1. Any type of fanwork is welcome so long as it features, or is otherwise inspired by, the Hermit of the day. 2. Tag #hermitaday to have your fanwork reblogged, or submit it directly to the blog (Please note that while we recognize the value of fanworks involving more mature themes, and they can certainly count toward challenge completion if you're keeping track for yourself, content on this blog will be kept "PG-13" so that all may enjoy.). 3. Fanworks for one Hermit posted after the day rolls over to another Hermit's day (per the US Central time zone) will be reblogged in one big queue in June. 4. Traced or stolen work is NOT welcome. If we discover you have posted traced or stolen work, you will be given one chance to delete it and apologize, or you will be blacklisted from the blog. AI-generated/assisted pieces are similarly unwelcome and will not be featured on the blog. 5. We are not interested in seeing captions or tags in which you disparage your art/skills, and will not be reblogging posts where this happens. We're all improving all the time. Be kind to yourselves. 6. Technically not a rule, but we strongly recommend adding alt text or description to all images. Click here to learn more about writing alt text - it's pretty easy!

WHY SHOULD I PARTICIPATE? To show love to every Hermit, from the most to least subscribed, from those who have been on the server from day one to those who only joined this season! And because challenges are fun! And because we are once again out here for a good cause: we're running another fundraiser for Gamers Outreach, featuring art incentives by nine amazing artists. Learn more about our incentives in these posts:

MILESTONE REWARD POST

INDIVIDUAL REWARD POST

RAFFLE POST

WHO’S RUNNING THIS? Hi! My name is Luna! You can use ze/hir, she/her, he/him, or ro/ros/roseself pronouns for me. My main blog is @as-if-unreal. Helping me out this year is the incredible Mod Sky ( @skyspersonalhell ), who uses any pronouns!

BONUS DAY PROMPTS EXPLAINED UNDER THE CUT

FAVORITE "ALT" HERMIT - May 4th HoTGuY and Poultry-Man. Helsknight and Evil Xisuma. Renbob and - look, you get the idea. This server is full of theater kids ready to toss on an alternate skin and play into a brand new character at the drop of a hat. Who's your favorite?

OUTFIT SWAP - May 9th What would Doc look like in Cleo's Life Series leotard? How would Cub fare in Wels's armor? What laundry day mishap could lead Mumbo's suit to lose its sleeves like Skizz's? Only hilarity can come from this...

GROUPS AND COLLABS - May 14th This month is all about one Hermit a day... but what we really love is when they interact with each other. What does your favorite duo or group of Hermits get up to together?

FAVORITE BUILD - May 18th The Hermits have put thousands of hours into their builds, from cozy starter bases to the sprawling halls of Deepfrost Citadel, from idyllic natural landscapes to machines the size of mountains. Which builds have inspired you?

TFC - May 23rd While he may no longer be with us physically, TFC left behind him a legacy of quiet care and good humor, and Hermitcraft would not have been the same without him.

FRIENDS OF HERMITCRAFT - May 28th There are plenty of shows, podcasts, competitions, other servers, and more woven into the internet ecosystem around Hermitcraft, and plenty more people involved in them. Today is for celebrating all of those who, while they may not be Hermits themselves, exist and entertain in proximity to them.