#inop

[mt10lt20]

Ace Combat 7 - Post mission checks

Avril: So which part requires maintenance?

Count, Trigger: THE WHOLE THING!!

[rbtreflyd]

Already had to push a car 2 blocks on a busy highway. What a day!

I don't get paid enough.

[craigpetersennz]

I'd been wondering for some time what actually is an Inoperative Data Pusher and what is their function? Since I haven't found any clear answers, I've decided this weird mix of Programs are the CPU players in dance games and they're great at it. Now, who in the Tron universe would willingly enter a Space Dance-a-noids competition against an Inoperative Data Pusher? Well, that would have to be Sora, Goofy and Donald. This pic has been a looonnng time in the making (I actually started it back in January) and I've finally found some time to finish it off. Their poses were inspired by a dance move from SHINee's music video, Lucifer (it's so damn catchy!).

Man, those light lines... Anyone who even vaguely attempts to do accurate light lines on Tron classic or KH characters, I salute you!

[astercontrol]

one of many many delightful bits of RANDOM WTF CONFUSING

in this bizarre movie

so Tron and Yori walk past these... whoever they are

and there's a little dialogue

I'm not completely sure if these phrases ("inoperative data pushers" and "control programs") are both answers to the same question.

And either way, there are so many interpretations for what the heck any of that could even MEAN.

Why are they Inoperative?

Do they... not work?

Are they not actually "pushing data," whatever is meant by that?

Or is "data pushing" what they do when they can't be "operative" in the way they are supposed to?

like becoming a drug dealer 'cause you lost your job?

is their Inoperative status the reason why they do not look like Users?

Nobody is Operating them

they are not Usable

they HAVE no Users so they... degrade to the point of not looking like anyone

?

And... if they are also "control programs"...

is this "control" in the sense of "the part of a study where nothing actually is done, so you can compare it to the part where you DO something"

is it, in this sense, a SYNONYM to "inoperative"?

and if so, in WHAT the hell study are they acting as the control group

...OR

are they control programs in the same sense as THIS GUY

hahahahhomfg that was the VERY wrong search result but i'm laughing so hard i'm keeping it ROFL

....nah i mean

i mean him

do they not look like a User for whatever same weird reason the MCP does not look like a User

are they, like

the Minion Control Programs to his Master Control Program

and if so

why are they Inoperative

is he that hilariously incompetent

did he not pay them enough and they're Quiet Quitting

who KNOWS

there ARE NO ANSWERS

I LOVE THIS MOVIE

[boeing747]

Being a (semi) functional adult with adhd is like being a captain of the world's shittiest vessel but the team makes it work. We have workarounds you can't even imagine

[chromaji]

i will say tower 5 was probably my favorite to climb, & tower 4 my least favorite, bc i experienced “objects sometimes straight up stop functioning” levels of jank there. Tower 1 was ehh. 2 was funny bc of the explosives. 3 was funny bc of the hyper fuckin frame drop

in order probably 5 > 2 > 3 > 1 > 4

[tutuandscoot]

Ok because I’m still emotionally distraught from watching their hometown WOF speeches back to back the other day I’m just gonna say something..

Not that I or anyone who wasn’t there (or wasn’t them) would know but I have a feeling, since Scott’s ceremony was first that day, he maybe asked Tessa to stand up there with him after the plaque reveal while he gave his speech, since he says (off script) that it’s horrible they have to do this apart from each other. So at least having her up there with him he could feel that reassurance there and of course she wouldn’t have questioned it. Not that they couldn’t reassure each other from the crowd- but they wanted to be next to each other when they did it.

So I guess later that day for her ceremony, without even discussing it he would stand with her. You know because their ceremonies were separate.. because they come from (close but) different communities, but its each of their own ceremonies, while both their names are on each plaque. But just given it’s them I think whoever went first would’ve asked the other to stand there. It’s a small thing but that’s so sweet that they don’t feel comfortable being alone when being at least somewhat individually honoured.

Then I just need to say how.. gut punching it is, when Scott looks to her and says ‘can you believe that was our career and we got to share that together’ and she looks away and is dangerously close to crying…

like Tessa is the queen of eye contact and composure.. she’s quiet in her expressions so with even the smallest thing.. that brief look away because she can’t look at him without getting emotional about everything they shared.. like… that says so much and this isn’t shocking but once you kinda know them in the sense of how they are and express themselves that is so telling from her.

Then of course she actually does go on to wipe tears away and once he’s done she just can’t wait to hug him and when they do hug and he squeezed his eyes shut and also it’s one of his Tessa hugs- like if you’re as unabashedly obsessed as me and you’ve watched enough hugs you know that he has.. kinda a few different hugs but a very special one or two Tessa hugs just for her.. and it’s one of those where he pulls her super close and so gently to fit their bodies together even briefly coz they have grown up essentially attached to each other it’s as if they have grown into and around each other so they fit perfectly…. ughhhhh it’s just so emotional when you know and understand just how much they love each other.. they aren’t use to having to get up in public and talk about how wonderful the other is- they showed that and would’ve told each other that to their face every single day.. but then reflecting on it and not being able to just straight away hug each other and express however/ exactly how they wanted to they had to stay composed and internalise it.. not to mention this time in their lives with so many changes and a scary but exciting future.. I think during T’s ceremony how she says ‘we can do this on our own time.. coz it would take so long… but like I think she probably really couldn’t do it because if she got that wobbly over her family imagine with him (not to say it’s more than her family but you know..)

Ugh I’m sorry I’m in my feels again I just had to let that out.. don’t get me any further started on crying T at her ceremony I was this 👌 close to jumping off a cliff.

[resplendentmackerelsky]

Chose violence at work and was passive aggressive to customers

[bullshit-bulltrue]

Hi lee and why are you awake please go to sleep <3

i literally went to bed at like 11 something pm but woke up at 2:30am because of period cramps

im refusing to take any meds because i feel like a weak bitch when i take them but im hurting too much to go and get a natural remedy from my kitchen🥰

but thank you for not threatening to use a knife on me tho<3

[qblester]

thank god For perfluorodecalin.

[swuid]

I need to do some light speedingonbthe highway right now

[evilgwrl]

ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (One)

Note: I'm having the WORST writer's block now so pls excuse my lack of proper writing... I'm currently sitting in front of a beach writing in hopes that ill gain inspo

CW: Angst, mentions of sex, jealous/possessive Simon, PLS DONT LEAVE YOUR KIDS IN THE CAR !!! Or break into someone’s house

Inspired by: Ex!Husband Simon

PART TWO

Simon stared at you. The shades of his eyes simmering into endless voids of obsidian, blonde lashes moulded against his greased lids, the residue of the perpetual torture his body had succumbed to during deployment.

“You want a divorce?” He spoke, voice deep as he flickered between your shaking heads, sweat soiling into the papers gripped firmly and your swollen face, cheeks feverish with a red hue, eyes even more so.

You held back a rough sob, throat stripped of all moisture evident in your hoarse voice as you spoke, “Yes, Simon. I think it would be best for our family… for us.”

He scoffed. “You think the best thing for our family is to separate?”

“We already pretty much are. You’re away for days, weeks, months at a time. We’re hardly a family and it’s difficult to explain to the children why I’m crying.”

“Ok then.”

That was it. You would admit, it stung. His lacklustre tone felt like a stab in the gut, the blade drenched with anthrax as it reared blistering sores internally, the effects having shown through your putrid complexion. Your skin was dull, practically lifeless, the only living form of you grew day by day through the darkening of eyebags that almost made you look apocalyptic.

It had been 12 months of separation, officially 8 being legally divorced. You kept his last name, the permanent burn of hearing Mrs Riley still searing through you with every syllable, yet you feel it would only hurt you more if they said Ms.

Simon was often away now, and the minimal family time he used to get felt pointless as the shabby apartment he moved into after the sudden interference of your mind-boggling news barely fit the two kids you shared. His body felt more relentless on him, the taunting of his mind fulgurated the inoperative reality that he would come home to you, to his family.

His voice, almost like it dropped an octave had grown richer in aggression, tormenting those he deemed suitable, both with his tongue and with his bruised knuckles, an oil painting of blue and purple hues radiating across the pale flesh as he shrugged it off to his team as “pushing himself and others to do better”.

Couldn’t you realise your mistake? Wouldn’t you prefer crying in his arms about his absence than never having it fulfilled again?

As he looked around the bleak environment, tan stained walls revolting the creaking mattress he had brought someone home to, someone who wasn’t you. It made him feel sick like a viral infection had slunk its way into his bloodstream as he laid next to a woman that failed to make his cock throb, endless images of you sprawled out under him flickering. No wonder he called out your name instead.

You felt the familiar shake of your hands every time your phone dinged; Simon’s dreary tone was evident through his dry “On the way” text. You ushered a day of your children’s life into their cartoon-themed backpacks, innocent smiles adorning their skin, doe-like eyes of brown, far too familiar to Simon’s staring up at you.

The sound of his car scraping into your paved driveway almost made you feel like throwing up, the nerves of seeing him combined with the already present pit of anxiety due to your date later turning you into one big shaky mess as you brushed it off as “too much caffeine”.

The echo of his car door slamming shut rung through your ears, staining you with the reiteration that your ex-husband was now at your door, heavy fists knocking upon the wood. The image you saw of him in your mind morphed back to reality as you stared at him, a blank expression on your face.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi, Simon.”

Your frown was clear, the pet name you were so used to becoming a distant memory in the past few months. It was a hole you were attempting to fill, to clear yourself away from his teasing tongue and faux impression of a healthy relationship. You were divorced for a reason, you knew that, but as you gazed upon the lack of life in his skin, it was almost like he was holding a mirror up to you.

“Daddy!” You watched as your 5-year-old, Ella, practically leapt into his hefty frame, his hands coiling around her like second nature. You could feel his warmth, the heat that would build in your stomach when you felt those same digits touch you.

“Hi sweetheart,” his voice gruff, yet tone lighter as he placed a delicate kiss on the skin of her forehead, “You miss me?”

She nodded, her face buried in the hem of his neck as your other child cooed from the bouncy chair, tubby legs attempting to wheel himself to the door.

“There’s my boy,” Simon practically cooed as he placed Ella down, bounding inside as he lifted the toddler out, grabby arms reaching out to pull at Simon’s locks, gentle tugs causing you to laugh.

Your voice cut through the scene like glass. Why would you want to destroy such a happy moment? Weren’t you supposed to be reuniting? Just say it, tell Simon you want him to come home, that you need him.

“This is Ella’s bag,” you speak, holding up the pink Minnie Mouse bag, “And this is Toby’s.” Your son giggled as he muffled out the words, “Transformers”.

Simon nodded, “Are you doing anything tonight?”

Ella practically screeched, “Mummy’s going on a date!” The thrill of her laughter that followed only seemed to make the situation more awkward.

“A date?” Simon’s voice was deadly, the hair raising on your arms as you shook your head, a tight smile on your suddenly dry lips.

“No, no, nothing like that. Just catching up with an old colleague of mine.”

“But he’s a boy, Mummy,” Ella giggled. Who was raising your daughter to be such a big mouth? Your face formed an annoyed look, eyebrows raising as a line of wrinkles crinkled against your forehead, your pointer fingers massaging your temples.

“An old colleague?” Simon practically gasped. Had he met him at your old work Xmas parties?

“Let’s get you guys in the car.” You fumbled with Toby’s car seat as you strapped him in, your nimble fingers shaking with anxiety before you shut the door, pressing a kiss against the window before wiping away the minimal residue of dirt. Gross.

“Who is he?” His tone was acerbic like he was looking for an argument. How dare you try and replace him? He was your husband, the father of your two kids? Have you seen this random man before? Had he fucked you?

“God, Simon-“

“Who is he?” Simon was relentless, bullying his way into getting the answers as his arms folded across his chest, tattoos practically screaming at you too.

“His name’s Andrew. I ran into him at a coffee shop a few weeks back and he just wanted to catch up. That’s it.”

A loud scoff sounded in the air. “You mean that geezer from that corporate job you hated? The one who didn’t know it was weird to blatantly stare down your dress when you were standing next to your fucking husband?”

“He didn’t stare down my dress! You’re not my husband anymore, Simon. I can see who I want.”

“I don’t want our children to grow up thinking they have multiple dads.”

You’ll admit, that stung.

“Multiple dads? You’re out of your mind. The only reason they would ever believe they have multiple dads is if their real one stopped showing up. And where have you been, Simon? When have you shown up?”

Simon held his tongue, the warmth of the metallic taste gashing through his teeth as he practically snarled past you. “I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

The dress you wore was practically suffocating you as you tucked your stomach in. Simon never minded the change in your figure after motherhood, he found himself liking it even more. He loved knowing that his seed put you through that, that he made you swell with his children, and he brought out the glow in your cheeks and the delicate stretch marks that laced your hips.

Andrew was nice. His tone was comforting as he walked to your door, ushering you to his car as he insisted you could order whatever you wanted. He was handsome, the salt and pepper hues of his hair settling your insecurity.

“We’ll take the Pinot Noir,” he spoke, looking at you with an almost arrogant sheer in his blue eyes. You only liked white. Simon knew that just like he knew everything about y-

You’re not with Simon anymore. You had to realise that. Maybe that’s why you brought Andrew home, let him shove his cock (that was a lot smaller than what you were used to) inside your heat, as you let out moans you had mimicked from the porn you watched with the actor that resembled far too much of your ex-husband.

Simon's fingers gripped the steering wheel early the next morning, your two children snuggled up in the backseat as he drove back to his old house, your old home. He wasn’t a man who gave up easy, he would show you, prove to you that you made a mistake. You needed each other.

Hold on. You don’t drive a red car?

His car lurched into the entrance of your home, nearly ramming into the garage as he shoved it in park, rolling down the two back windows slightly for air as he dug around in the small side compartment of his car.

The familiar gold key he had stolen from you the night he packed up all his stuff stared back at him, practically egging him on. Go on Simon, march in there. So he did. His hand rattled against the door knob, glancing back to peak into the car for a second before he slammed the door shut.

Your body froze. Were you being robbed? No. It was only Simon. A very angry-looking Simon. You stood, the white sheet barely shielding your naked body as he took in the sight of the man next to you, his hands wrapping around his shoulders as he practically ripped him out of bed, flinging him onto the floor as he grunted, eyes reared with hatred.

“Simon, what the fuck are you doing? WHERE ARE THE KIDS?”

Andrew groaned, on the floor, covering his groin as Simon chucked the masculine clothes at his head, the thin boxers soiled across the man’s scalp as he trembled.

“Our kids are asleep in the car, waiting for their Mummy to come to the zoo with them.” Simon’s words were despicable, laced with an acrimonious tone, small particles of spit seething through his lips as stared at you.

He turned to the man, a giant frame staggering over the top of him. “Get the fuck out, and if you wake up our kids when you go past, I will personally put a bullet straight in the middle of your skull,” he said, pushing a thick digit against his forehead as Andrew rushed out, clothes barely on before you felt the front door shut, a cry of apologises leaving your lips as you tried to assist him but Simon only held you back, a tight grip coiling around your arm.

“What the fuck was that? How’d you get in?” You couldn’t even place the words to say, humiliation roaring through you as you snuggled the sheet closer to you, away from his peering eyes.

“It’s time to be a family again, don’t you think love?”

[astercontrol]

Spot (star trek next generation) is a cat

and therefore she would push anything, including Commander Data, off of a counter if she could

However, she cannot, because Data weighs about 100 kg and also does not sit on counters

therefore

Spot is an Inoperative Data Pusher

[june1960fan]

Dana's Garage 96 stang odometer inop

[profamer]

VALID #valid #synonym #ingles #strong #powerful #cogent #weighty #sound #antonym #weak #invalid #powerless #unsound #unsubstantial #portugues #válido #forte #poderoso #cogente #pesado #sonoro #substancial

VALID #valid #synonym #ingles #strong #powerful #cogent #weighty #sound #antonym #weak #invalid #powerless #unsound #unsubstantial #portugues #válido #forte #poderoso #cogente #pesado #sonoro #substancial

Inglês: Valid Synonyms Strong, powerful, cogent, weighty, sound, substantial, available, efficient, sufficient, operative, conclusive. Antonyms Weak, invalid, powerless, unsound, unsubstantial, unavailable, inefficient, insufficient, inoperative, obsolete, effete, superseded, inconclusive. Português: Válido Forte, poderoso, cogente, pesado, sonoro, substancial, disponível, eficiente, suficiente,…

[t4yce]

it would be awesome if you could do Gioffré 🥺 she and Panthera Virus are my faves from drag race italia and i think she deserves more love

sure i can! 💗 just wanna check, was it this weeks look you'd like giffed or another weeks?