#Global Head of Technology

[roysexton]

From Detroit Legal News: “People often fail to realize the importance of visibility and representation.” INvolve Outstanding 100 LGBTQ+ Executives Role Model List 2024

Thank you, Detroit Legal News’ Sheila Pursglove, Brian Cox, Brad Thompson, Tom Kirvan, and team for all this support you show our professional community. It means a lot. Original article here. Roy Sexton, director of Marketing at Clark Hill and 2024 International Immediate Past President of the Legal Marketing Association, has been named to the INvolve Outstanding 100 LGBTQ+ Executives Role…

[whatshappeningintheworlds-blog]

After Serving 45 Years in Church As a Priest, David Embraces Islam, Naming Himself Abdur Rehman

[ritumistry11]

BBA in Management Information Systems - Northwood University - Northwest Executive Education

Northwood’s Bachelor of Business Administration in Management Information Systems is designed to help students in the rapidly evolving field of technology and management. The curriculum covers a wide range of topics, including programming languages, the infrastructure of operating systems and networks, graphics, and web design.

https://northwest.education/northwood-bachelor-of-business-administration-in-management-information-systems/

[dcxdpdabbles]

Any ideas for Phantom's number 1 fan? I'm so excited to see Tim and Danny run into each other and figure out OH, so this is what's going on. And also being gay cuz would either of them mind too much about being married? Hey- wait- what's this about a child-

Cut to the watchtower just freaking out full panic. Oh God, the world is gonna end. How do we fix this so the ghost king doesn't kill us all???

John Constantine would go bald from how much stress hair-pulling he was doing. They have been searching for a solid week and have yet to find out where Batman's third son went.

He left a very tiny trail across Europe, seemingly as an art thief and hired assassin. It broke Batman's eldest son's heart whenever a new clue was phoned into the Watchtower, which did not make John feel better about placing a bounty on the kid's head.

It was a neceasery but with each passing day it became clear that no one truly understod the Young Justice Robin. He seemed to always be one step ahead of everyone, and covered his tracks so well that it would have taken them months, maybe even years to follow if they hadn't been looking.

But oh, were they bloody looking.

The entire league had come together to trace Young Justice Robin's path, turning two of the main conference rooms into the center hub for comparing and connecting clues.

It looks like a conspiracy theorist's wet dream in there.

Colored yarn strung around the room, screens displaying messages and photos of cities, and multiple tired-looking league members scrambling to make heads or tails of the new personality that YJ Robin had created in every new country.

Frankl, John was slightly impressed by how much work the kid was giving them. Even the tracking spells that should have pointed in his general direction failed because his soul was not being picked up on a global search whenever they cast it.

It was almost as if the kid had left their world. John wanted to hope that it meant he went to a different planet, but he never betted on a horse with a broken leg.

YJ Robin was trying to kill the Ghost King's fiancee, and despite the guards they placed around known stationed natural portals, he managed to slip through.

It was the only thing that made sense, but it also meant they were running out of time. His contacts on the other side had caught multiple whispers that the Ghost King's army was gathering and would be ready for combat any day now.

At this point, he wasn't even sure the King would listen, even if they did manage to stop YJ Robin. Higher beings took a insult far more serious then humans did.

"Well?" He asks just to be a ass when Batman son teleports in. He gone to speak to some Ghost hunter specilists. Not that John put much stock in thier ecto-research. He perfected magic through hard work and numours deals. The thought the scientist thought they could us maths to build similar defenses were laughable.

But the league was desperate for any form of defense against the army in case they could not please the King in time.

Nightwing—even in the Batman suit, John could only see the young man in Blue struggling to keep everything together—pulled a face. "The Fenton's technology is impressive but....they seemed to really empthis that they no longer build weapons. That it wouldn't work."

"I could you that. At the most, they could detect a ghost but that's only a few second before a deadful shiver ran down your spin anyway." John huffs rolling his eyes.

"No. I think they were lying. They seemed really determined to make me believe they had no real means of harming a ghost. And get this: The Fentons dismantled the ghost portal they claimed allowed them to enter a death dimension only two days before we arrived."

Nightwing says with a tone that would have sounded strange in his blue suit. On Batman, it's just the right amount of emotionless that John has to bite his lip to stop him from reaching out and yanking the kid into a hug.

The world was too unfair to the kind-hearted folk like Nightwing.

The boy dressed as a Bat continues, blissfully unaware of how much he breaks John's heart. "They claimed it never worked and were embarrassed they kept it up for so long. I asked Oracle to check their online presence, and they read a lot of articles that speculated what the Justice League was up to days before they tore it down."

Now, John frowned in thought instead of disapproval. He highly doubted those hacks had made an actual portal to the Infinite Realms but they had boasted about it for three full years on their website.

It was the reason the Justice League even bothered to approach them. So why now, did they suddenly tear it down?

"They're trying to cover something up." John concludes watching the other nod in agreement.

The other man's jaw tightens for just a second before he adds "Or they are coving for someone."

Shit.

"Kid made it to the ghost zone, didn't he?" John swears feeling his heart drop down to his knees.

"We can gather that Young Justice Robin has made his way to the Realms and is now an active threat to humankind's survival. He needs to be taken down by any means possible," Batman declares, his voice like breaking glass. It's sharp and cutting, like the shreds of whatever heart was left in Richard Grayson.

John wonders if Bruce knows his son has broken from wherever his soul rests.

"That would explain the army that has gathered under the Ghost King banner," John grumbles, hands twitching for nicotine. "My sources said they are all gathered and practically ready to march."

"Do you know how long we have before they are here?" Batman asks walking into the conference room and grabbing the attention of every gathered hero with one hand motion.

Everyone tenses in a way that could make the weakest of them choke. They know what it means.

A level ten threat will arrive.

They failed to stop the Third Robin. He managed to spend months doing whatever he pleased, and now that the League was paying attention, it was far too late.

Many of them would not survive the upcoming battle. Many of them who did would lose so many loved ones that it would be hard to decide if they should spend the last few hours on the battlefield or in the arms of their families.

Life, as they know, may come to an end. They could become the next Krypton. Somewhere in the crowd, Kara falls to her knees, sobbing and babbling to Roa, begging for her not to live through her planet's destruction again.

A few of the youngest members start to sob along side her.

Wonder Woman, who was standing next to Superman and Martian man hunter, clears her throat. Her eyes are as hard as steel, her stance unwavering under the pressure of hundreds of pairs of eyes that land on her, and when she speaks, it's like the banging of a drum.

"Warriors prepare for combat. We are at War."

__________________________________________________________

Tim doesn't think when he lands.

He scrambles to his feet, and rushes away from the portal as fast as he can, hoping to put as much distance as possible between himself and the Yetis.

His feet fall into the mud, splashing and nearly tripping him over. It darkens out, and there are no cars in sight, but the smell is familiar, and the feeling of the air is welcome.

Before Gotham stands in all her grey dangerous glory, just over a few hills. He is far from the city, on the outside of Crime Alley, he thinks, but he can see the Bat symbol flowing proudly in the sky, can make out Wayne Headquarters, his Nest, and Babs' Clocktower, and it's so amazing to finally be home.

He pushes his legs to go faster, climbing up the hills into the highway. The streetlight flicker as he rushes by, unafriad of coming trafic. No one goes this way anymore. Not since they turned it into a dead end long before Bruce's parents died.

There are patches of broken road pieces where grass and weeds are growing through, his feet slap against the multiple holes, ruining his momentum but Tim can hardly care.

Tim knows how to find Bruce now.

He can help bring him back from the timeline through the various clues his father figure has been able to leave over his adventures. Tim is so close now, he can actually see the finish line.

He just needs to get to the Cave- when Jason and the Demon are not there, preferably. Maybe Alfred would let him in. The old man had always had a soft spot for Tim- and he could build the machine he needed.

That's if he doesn't build it in his Nest.

Tim runs faster, feeling his lungs and legs burn. He doesn't pay it any mind. The time with the Yeti has made him stronger, likely due to the hours of soaking in some private reserve of Lazarus Pit, so he is going at a faster speed.

One that he had never been able to reach before. He was nothing like a speedster or even on his Red Bird, but damn if it isn't exciting to think he may be able to outpace Jason now.

As he approaches, the city becomes more prominent, shimmering in a faint green glow, as if welcoming him home. Tim's face breaks into a smile when he enters Crime Alley, passing the city limits. In Bruce's city, he is safe from Ra because even without Batman, the city has always shielded them from the Ghuls.

Bruce will be back tomorrow, here in the shadows of Gotham's darkness, protecting everyone, and Tim will finally be able to rest. Months of invading the Justice League, working with the League of Assiasn, the Spiders, and his own doubts were finally going to be behind him.

So close. So very close he could taste it.

A scream cuts through the air.

Tim slides to a stop, feet splashing against the puddles of dirty water he hadn't noticed, swinging his head in the direction it came from. Every part of him wants to ignore it because he has to focus on getting Bruce. He does, but the fear in that woman's voice is too thick to ignore.

He glances back to his Nest, torn between his duty and his heart, biting his lip, but a young whimper- a child likely- makes the choice for him. Tim changes directions, going into the alley and coming across a family of three in the middle of being mugged.

It's quick work to get behind the man waving the gun, silent as the shadows, he blends in to mask his presense. He stricks just as the fool pulls the triger, the loud bang echoing in the small space.

The woman screams again, this time louder, with far more fright in her voice, as the boy bursts into tears.

Thankfully, Tim had knocked off his aim, and the bullet bounced off the brick near the man- likely the father- who was standing in front of a frightened woman and small child in what could only be an attempt to protect them.

The brick shatters to peices as Tim reels back his fists, bringing them down in three swift but brutal punches and the gunman hits the ground with a loud thump.

He hadn't even had time to scream.

Tim huffs above him, and the large amount of running finally catches up to him. It's been a long time since he was so out of breath, though sprinting at full force for a solid nearly fifty minutes was a good enough reason.

"Is everyone alright?" Tim pants out, shaking out his hand in a showy way. After all, he wasn't wearing a mask, and right now, this needed to look like Timothy Drake got a lucky burst of adrenaline.

"Yes." The man breathes, sounding shocked. "Yes, we're fine. Thanks to you. Thank you so much, you saved our lives."

"Don't mention it. I'm glad I was in the right place at the right time." Tim looks up at him, twisting his face into the perfect meek civilian persona Timothy Drake is known for, and then feels all the blood drain from his face.

At that moment, he realizes two things.

One, Gotham was many shades of depressing but it was never green. Espcailly glowing green but while he had been runing he had swon he saw it shifted to sit behind a filter that made it appear as such.

And Two, Bruce looked a aweful lot like his father.

"Oh my boy." Thomas Wayne says, wrapping his arm around Martha and little Bruce Wayne's. He sends Tim another grateful warm smile. "I don't think you understand just what you've done here."

No, Tim thinks faintly I really don't think I do.

_____________________________________________________________

Somewhere in the far future, Danny Fenton wonders why his portal-making skill has stopped working. He used it regularly as his search and rescue means but ever since Robin fell into his arms half dead he had not been able to activeate it.

It was almost like it was stolen from him.

If only his parents hadn't dismantled the portal. He could ask Frostbite to check him over.

[deunmiu-dessie]

1/2 (unedited)

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : in the year 3020, androids of all types are being produced globally. cybernautic technologies (cnt), the leading company in the field, is offering anyone who has bought an android from them the opportunity to be selected as a beta tester for any of their upcoming models at no cost—all you have to do is sign up. while the odds of being chosen are quite low, when cnt has revealed the imminent launch of their latest android, named 'the guard dog.' you arrive home to a large, heavy package bearing the cybernautic technologies logo waiting at your doorstep.

SEPTEMBER 11TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT— THE PROSPECT RESTAURANT | 10:16 PM.

“hello, welcome to the prospect, i’ll be your server for today.”

“will that be all?”

“thank you for dining here at the prospect!”

“what would you like to drink tonight?”

“would you prefer soup or salad?”

“will you be paying in credits?”

“it seems you're low on mexus currency, we’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“here at the prospect, everything is cooked and served by humans.”

“enjoy the rest of your stay here in felicity port.”

⸺⸺⸺⸺ ☙ ⸺⸺⸺⸺

everything slipped by in a haze, a blur of muted colors and indistinct sounds, as if the world outside had faded into a dreamlike state; and you don't remember eating at all today. the gnawing emptiness in your belly screaming for attention is testament to that, your body desperately trying to consume itself whole in mutiny. your fingers glide over the soft fat of your stomach, a tender caress meant to placate the piercing pains and the grumbling whale noises. however, it continues its revolt and doubles its efforts.

as a matter of fact, you couldn't remember if you’d even gone home the day prior or stayed to work through your off hours into this shift. because the moment you clocked in, time seemed nonexistent. hours evaporated into mere moments, while seconds stretched into agonizing eternities, voices overlapped and the heat of the kitchen crept underneath skin and charred bones, words pierced hearts and knives nicked flesh. claret hued blood confused with strawberry puree.

 there was no concept of time here at the prospect. you realized that a month into working. after weeks and weeks of grueling work, where each day bled into the next, a nightmarish cycle of labor that left you retching and gasping for air every single time you came home, time seemed to warp and stretch. it felt as if the second you crossed the threshold of your home, you were heading back to work, with barely enough time to brush the smell of puke from your breath. and for the entire bleak month of feburary, you found yourself ensnared in a twisted romance with your bathroom toilet; a tall glass of orange juice- your only companion in this grim affair.

and because there was never a point when the restaurant was empty, there was never a moment when the workers could break. never a moment to catch your breath, to declutter your mind, to steady your heart, never a time to think. thoughts raced like the orders flying out of the kitchen; contemplation was a luxury they could not afford. adapt or face the door—those were the unspoken rules. amy, one of the general managers, often said, “you can rest when you’re six feet under.” ironically, her break arrived just a few months later.

the prospect stood as a rare sanctuary in a world dominated by machines, and was one of the few places that hired humans and humans only. a coveted position here came with a lengthy waiting list, despite the shit wages which barely compensated for the grueling labor. so there was no way you would leave, no way you could quit. besides, it wasn't all bad— it was quite the close-knit family here, and working could be fun most days with the right manager scheduled. and the perks were good enough. you needed the money.

“chica? you leavin’?”

your head swivels tiredly in the direction of the smooth, rich voice of your co-worker nina, her long dark tresses are pulled into a low ponytail, and the familiar piercings that embellish her spheroidal face—tiny silver hoops and delicate studs— have been taken off for the start of her shift, giving her an unexpectedly fresh look. your thoughts scatter the moment you see her, like autumn leaves in a brisk wind, as if attempting to hide from nina's presence despite the woman not being able to hear them.

your hand drops from the hold on your pained stomach, gliding down to the unforgiving chill of the bench beneath you, the shock of the cold metal causes goosebumps to ghost along your skin. when the two of you meet eyes, you can't help but grin teasingly as you respond to her, “mhm, i’m off the next two days as well,” there's a keen lilt to your voice and nina groans, her head teetering back in disbelief, her soft, rounded hands settling defiantly on her curvy hips. nina's gaze resembles deep pools of dark chocolate, rich and indulgent, infused with a small hint of cayenne.

“tell me you're thinkin’ about pickin’ up,” her voice pleads, her curvaceous figure now leaning against the threshold of the changing room. nina’s lips, petite yet full with a pronounced cupid's bow, pull into a soft frown, her chin set and a small dimple forming in the skin.

nina’d been working at the prospect long before you came, but the two of you formed bonds quickly in only a couple of weeks despite the age gap, with her being a few years your senior, the connection felt effortless. “i have a new server comin’ in and i don't want to train him alone, you know how packed we get on saturdays.” she mutters bitterly and your nose scrunches up at the mere idea of having to work on the weekend.

because the prospect was one of the three human ran restaurants in felicity port, that wasn't in the glades, it was bound to be packed and always drew in crowds like moths to a flame. most of the dickheads and drunks came out on the weekends and most workers dreaded being scheduled for it. however, when you and nina were on the clock together, most would leap at the chance to work those nights. you let out a sigh and shake your head, lips pursing and toeing into your beat-up shoes. “i would– you know i would, but cody is on my ass for the amount of overtime i racked up last month, so i can't.”

nina’s forehead gently collides with the door frame as she processes your response, a rhythmic thud echoing in the air. after a few moments, she pivots her head to meet your gaze. “bitch, why do you do these things to me? creo que voy a dejarlo.” the question is filled with exhaustion and slight irritation that has your mouth opening in a boisterous laugh, much to nina's growing irritation. the hispanic woman's hand lifts from its grip on the doorframe, and the middle finger raises slowly, but it only makes you laugh harder as you clutch your weathered tote bag and rise from the cold metal bench. ( i think i'm going to quit. )

you lightly tap the toe of your shoes against the floor before walking towards nina and enveloping her shoulders with your arm, lips pressing to her olive toned cheek as a parting gift, soft chuckles still slipping from your lips. "i'll see you monday, nina." you tell her softly, patting her shoulder, then glide by her, walking to the back door of the restaurant.

SEPTEMBER 11TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT— THE PROSPECT RESTAURANT | 10:45 PM.

there's a chill in the air the moment you cross the threshold into the open, the warm autumn air from early in the morning feels like a figment of your imagination. and for a heartbeat, you linger, eyes lifted to the synthetic trees that stretch toward the artificial night sky, watching the transformation of leaves from vibrant green to fiery red, cascading down to the metallic earth below. where with each leaf that touches the surface, vanishes in a delicate explosion of shimmering blue motes.

the loud hum of machinery, and the occasional chirp of synthetic birds flitting between the branches makes your stomach churn. there was nothing real here.

despite it being deep into the night, felicity port was as bright and loud as ever. known to outsiders as: the place that never sleeps, andromexus city thrummed with life. the sharp sound of flying cars and the whoosh of hoverboards, the loud thrum of the machinery just beneath the metallic sidewalks and roads, the sound of pleasure androids promoting their workplace, and the sound of rowdy human men that came with it. there was never a moment where felicity port was silent, never a moment where shit wasn't happening.

it was a place where dreams were made and also came to die-- everyone yearned to call andromexus city home, yet only a select few could endure its relentless pace. it stopped for no one and at times, you wondered how you managed to survive.

your eyes flit around the darkened alleyway, well as dark as it could get with the flickering glow of promotional drones flying around, their neon signs casting a sharp light. you search intently until your eyes land on what you're looking for, or perhaps, who, you are looking for. with a steady stride, you approach the homeless man, joel, an older gentleman whose wisdom is etched into the lines of his weathered face. yet, despite the knowledge that comes with age, he has found himself adrift in felicity port, stripped of mexus currency and credits. "joel, i got you something to eat."

his lashes, wispy and white as gossamer, flutter before his eyelids lift revealing soft irises of honey brown and milky white. he was blind in one eye. joel's gaze seems to brighten the moment that they find you, a smile pulling at his thin lips, his crooked, yellow teeth on display to give you a warm smile. "you're here," the man murmurs, his voice raspy yet tender, as he shifts slightly beneath the thick blanket, a gift given to him by you.

you can't help the smile that blooms on your face as you crouch before him, rummaging through your well-worn tote bag to retrieve the food you had pilfered from the restaurant kitchen. "i am," you murmur back softly, grabbing his thin hand, blue veins protruding against his flesh. you gently place the hefty weight of the box in his grasp. "enjoy, joel,"

there's a soft pop of your joints when you stand from your crouched position and you grimace softly, hefting your tote bag over your shoulder once more and taking a few steps back from the man. with a swift turn, you exit the alleyway, a smile curling your lips when you hear the faint voice of joel calling out a, 'thank you', the bustling sounds of the street greeting you.

when you first moved to andromexus city, the sounds and smells of felicity port made you nauseous and dizzy. you could barely be outside for more than ten minutes without swallowing down the burning taste of vomit, without having your hands cushioning the weight of your skull in your palms. the lights were too bright, everything too loud, the smell of oil and smoke filling your lungs and clinging to the walls like an unwelcome guest you had been overwhelmed, with no one to help you become accustomed to it.

despite having resided in felicity port for a few years, there was still a dull ache in the back of your head the moment you stepped outside of your apartment. with a gentle shake of your head and a deep sigh, you deftly maneuver through the packed streets of the entertainment district, narrowly dodging teenagers zipping by on hoverboards and gliding on sonic razorblades. this was the familiar rhythm of your day, the 'dream' you had envisioned while living in nebulon city, where the population was only ten thousand.

"i'll take a corndog."

"that'll be five, in mexus currency."

the prices were cheap in felicity port but then again, the food wasn't real out here in the entertainment district. just crafted to resemble the culinary delights of a bygone era, a time when the world still had the animals and resources to create such dishes. you weren't too sure if this was even the original taste of a corndog, with its sweet, bready exterior and the savory meat hidden within, all generously slathered in ketchup and mustard. nothing was real.

as you turn down the familiar street that your apartment rests on, you observe the small android children frolicking on their porches, undeterred by the late hour. sleep was a concept foreign to them, after all; they weren't bound by human needs. your blunt human teeth bite into the familiar taste of the corndog, a treat you always got yourself the moment you got off of work. a soft sound of contentment escaped your lips, chewing slowly as your eyes took in the activity of felicity port.

"excuse me."

"sorry,"

the softness of your lips part to mutter, hips narrowly missing the patrolling security robot as you continue your way down the street. for a fleeting moment, your gaze lingers on the machine before you turn your attention ahead. andromexus city was no stranger to crime; it was a constant presence. it was inevitable with the number of jewle addicts and homeless that took up more than half the population and each night, countless individuals fell victim to theft, losing their credits and mexus currency. thankfully you had never been targeted before.

the moment your apartment complex comes into view, your eyes land on a huge box stationed in front of your door and your lashes flutter, your stomach clenching painfully from hunger. you instinctively press your fingers against your abdomen, trying to ease the discomfort, while you cautiously ascend the stairs to your floor. eyebrows furrowing and footsteps light. you hadn't ordered anything in months, yet with each step, your address becomes more distinct, and your name emerges clearly on the package.

your fingers glide across the surface of the box, your eyes darting around as you absorb its details, eventually settling on the tiny logo of cybernautic technologies nestled in the bottom right corner. your eyebrows lift in soft question before you slide past the box, placing your thumb on the doorknob. the scanner emits a red blinking light until the mechanical sound of your door unlocking is heard and the scanner flashes green.

as you turn the knob and push the door to your apartment ajar, you let your bag tumble to the floor with a soft thud. standing there, hands on your hips, you tilt your head back to scrutinize the top of the box that looms above you, lips trembling as you let out a sigh, muttering softly to yourself, "what the hell are you?"

SEPTEMBER 11TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT— PROXXY STREET | 11:57 PM.

it took more than half an hour for you to drag the box into your apartment and the center of your living room, it was as if it were a leaden weight that clung stubbornly to the ground. you were sure it weighed a ton, and in the process, you had chipped at least two nails.

now, standing before the box with your hip tilted to one side, you were drenched in sweat, your chest rising and falling with exertion. meanwhile, your android dog, who you named willow, was still stationed at its charging station and though the thought of letting her roam free while you tackled the unboxing was tempting, you ultimately decided against it.

walking to the kitchen, your hand instinctively reached for the laser knife nestled in its sheath. with purpose, you returned to the box, carefully slicing along the dotted lines designed for a precise opening of a package from cybernautic technologies. after a few deft cuts, the front of the box fell away, hitting the tiled floor with a resounding thud. your blade followed suit, clattering down just moments later as your gaze finally settled on the imposing figure within the box—a large, burly man, no android, firmly secured within it.

he was naked from his neck to the deep v-line at his hips; from then on he was covered by a pair of cnt boxer briefs that truly left little to the imagination. you swallow thickly, forcing your gaze to remain fixed on his face. he possessed a rugged handsomeness, his dark blonde hair tousled and his lips a delicate shell pink. he looked real, a vividness that made it difficult to believe he was an android. with a trembling hand, you reach up to brush softly against his cheek feeling the chill of his skin—a common trait among androids, especially when they were not connected to their charging stations.

your breath hitches just from the touch of his frigid artificial skin, and your fingertips brush and tap down his flesh until they get to his chest, where you press your palm firmly against him. your eyes remain fixed on his face, tilting your head slightly in a daze, lips slightly parted as your gaze roams over his features, the contours of his jawline, the curve of his lips, and the startling realness of his skin. there was something so different about him compared to the other androids that have been made. your fingers wander over the delicate hairs just below his navel, a soft, almost reverent touch, but then you withdraw your hand abruptly, as if you'd been shocked.

your gaze darts around your living room for a brief moment before it settles on a small envelope glued to the front of the box. in a swift motion, you lower yourself into a crouch, pressing your palm against the sturdy cardboard surface. with your other hand, you carefully peel the letter free, shaky hands, ripping it open, fumbling to get the note out of the envelope before your eyes roam over its contents.

exciting news: you've been selected as a beta user! dear [recipient's name], here at cyberbautic technologies, we’re thrilled to inform you that you have been chosen as a beta user for our latest innovation, the android robot known as "the guard dog." this advanced robot is designed to provide security and companionship in your home. you will have a full week to interact with the guard dog, testing its features and functionalities. we encourage you to explore all its capabilities, which include smart surveillance, voice interaction, personalized security settings and other functions. your feedback is invaluable to us, so please take note of your experiences, any challenges you encounter, and suggestions for improvement. best regards, [your name]

your lips part in a soft movement of disbelief, and your gaze darts back to the android confined within the box, his eyes closed in a serene slumber and framed by long, delicate blonde lashes. everything about him was so big, so masculine, and void of any gentle contours. broad shoulders taper down to a powerful torso, each muscle defined and pronounced and thick, muscular thighs, thick and sturdy.

your eyes travel down to his large hands with blunt fingernails, it reminds you of a life of labor, of toil and effort, as if he wasn't forged from metal and circuitry. each finger is thick and strong, capable of both delicate precision and overwhelming force. a sharp, prominent nose, slightly askew as if it has borne the brunt of countless battles. it was as if he was a greek god sculpted from marble.

letting the letter fall from your hands you walk forward and lean in close, eyes looking for the small power button nestled just beneath and behind his ear. with trembling fingers, slick with sweat, you press it, feeling a bead trickle down your temple. the sound of him powering on reverberates through the confines of your small apartment, and you carefully retreat a step back.

nothing.

no movement, unlike what you’d seen in countless galaxy network videos of android unboxings. your eyebrows twitch as you instinctively move to take a step forward, but then a voice echoes through the air—dark, deep, and tinged with a rough accent. it sent a warm wave of heat unfurling within your stomach, leaving you momentarily breathless. hand pressing to your heart to calm the fierce thumping.

“standby mode: off.”

a gentle hum emanates from his internal mechanisms and as if awakening from a deep slumber, his eyes slowly open, the brown irises glowing a pale blue, while streams of programming code flicker rapidly across their surface. you watch as his chest slowly starts to move, as if he is mimicking the act of breathing. and the moment you step closer, you can feel the heat rolling off his body in waves.

“performing quick self-diagnostic check.”

crouching, you retrieve the laser knife from the floor. you approach the android, your heart racing as you carefully slice through the straps binding his arms; descending back down to also cut the straps from his ankles; making sure to avoid looking anywhere below his waist. once the android is free from his bindings, you swiftly retreat a few paces, creating distance between you and the now-unrestrained figure.

“diagnostics complete.”

the gruff, deep, accented, and almost monotonous sound of his voice sends a chill racing down your spine, and the scent of pine and something akin to smoke invades your nose and lungs. then his brown eyes, so life-like and dark, are on yours, with an intensity that is hard to ignore. your eyes widen when he speaks, trying your hardest to keep your eyes on his face, “id code: #a36h920tr, you have been selected as a beta user for my model, ‘the guard dog,’ set to launch in the fall of next year. i am the only one of my kind and have been named, simon.”

what exactly have you signed up for?

your mouth gapes like a fish out of water, while your eyes blink in a startled manner, akin to an owl's gaze, as a tightness grips your throat, a constricting band that makes it feel as though you are being choked by an unseen force, “y-yes, my name is [your name].” you mutter, heart thudding so hard in your chest, it’s almost painful.

“your heart rate is above the normal range. initiatin’ a complete body scan for owner: [your name].”

hot. your flesh felt like it was peeling from your bones, dissolving into a pile of gore at your feet. you wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole. he was an android, he wasn’t real, just a mere construct of metal and circuits, yet he appeared so convincingly lifelike, both in appearance and sound, that it was disorienting. you could almost convince yourself he was real, as real as the oppressive warmth surrounding you. with a sharp intake of breath, you cleared your throat and raised your hand, halting his scanning gaze. “no! i’m fine, it’s just…hot.” you mutter sheepishly.

simon’s gaze is an unwavering, dark pit, drawing you in with an intensity that felt almost otherworldly. as if he could ask you to do something and you would, without hesitation. the way he spoke, low and deep, growly and gruff, like distant thunder, set all of your nerves on fire and scorched your bones to the marrow.

the two of you are silent for a moment, and you catch a glimpse of the android's gaze flickering momentarily to your breasts and thighs, see the soft clenching of his large hands, yet, just as quickly, his eyes return to meet yours. your lips part and his eyes follow dutifully, taking in the softness of your mouth, the delicate curve of your lips, the gentle nervous breath that escapes, and the slight peek of your pink human tongue. you wonder what thoughts race through his mind, what algorithms are at play as he watches you. wonder if he's aware of the way your skin tingles under his gaze.

was it even possible to have sexual tension with a damn robot?

you practically jump out of your skin when he shifts, thick powerful legs, connecting to a tapered waist, emerging from the confines of the box. in response, you step back, wide eyes on his. then his whole body is out, and somehow he seems bigger than he was before– it's as if he takes up all the space in your small apartment. you can't help the breath of awe that escapes, or the way your eyes trail down his neck, past the swell of his adams apple, before settling on the impressive contours of his chest.

there's something akin to amusement that seems to swirl in his eyes when you find his gaze again, that and something…dark, in a way. just as you prepare to speak, a subtle flash of red flickers from just behind and beneath his ear.

“my power level ‘s low,” he informs you, and you respond with a nod, feeling somewhat foolish as you remain rooted to the spot. his eyes narrow, like a predator watching prey, prompting you to finally break the silence. you wipe your sweaty palms on the back of your pants. “right, sorry. uh, i have a charging pad, just, um–” you motion towards the corner of the living room where your android dog was stationed on a charging port.

simon’s head cranes to look where you point and he lets out a soft, deep grunt before his dark eyes find yours, and it steals your breath, and causes heat to blossom between the apex of your thighs. you shake your head, attempting to dispel the swirling thoughts, and cautiously maneuver around him, you can’t help but notice the way his gaze follows you, breath hitching when you hear him take in a soft inhale of your scent.

you quickly make your way to the charging pad and gently pick up willow, cradling her plush body to your chest and stepping out of the way. “you can charge now, simon.” you murmur, pivoting to meet his gaze. however, he's already bridged the gap, now merely a foot away. the artificial warmth radiating from him sends a wave of dizziness through you, mingling with the earthy scent of pine and smoke that clings to his frame. he’s a massive android, perhaps the biggest creation cybernautic technologies has made.

a small startled sound escapes your mouth and you instinctively shuffle away, your back pressing against the cool surface of the wall. he looks as if he’s going to eat you whole, ravage your body, and leave you as nothing more than a heap of overstimulated flesh. you swallow thickly and his intense gaze flits down to your throat. there's a stall in his mechanics, you notice the way a vivid purple light flickers from his power button and turn red before his dark eyes finally break away from yours, and he strides toward the charging pad, the 'muscles' in his jaw tightening.

“standby mode: on.”

with a trembling inhale, you observe his eyelids fluttering close, and his chest stopping its movement; almost as if he were no longer alive. the moment simon is charging, you exhale sharply, pressing a hand against your heart, holding willow close.

“i think i’m gonna pass out.”

SEPTEMBER 12TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT— PROXXY STREET | 4:09 AM.

you're not sure what the time is or why you woke up, but your lashes flutter, and the stark white ceiling comes into focus, the shadows of your room slowly receding. despite the warmth from your comforter, you can feel a brush of cool air over your collarbones. your eyes glide around your room, groggily taking in the dark chamber before landing on a massive, bulky figure looming at the foot of your bed.

a scream lodges its way in your throat, attempting to claw its way out, but before it can break free, a deep, gravelly voice cuts through the tension. “your heart rate is elevated, and your stress hormones are off the charts. you’re frightened,” he states, his tone almost indifferent. you swallow hard, the scream lodged deep within you, your heart racing and your skin flushing with heat. “what the hell are you doing in my room?” you murmur, sitting up slowly in bed.

“i am programmed to always be within a certain range of you, sweetheart.” he states gruffly, his voice, while panty-dropping, had a bit of sass to it. “this ‘s a setting that can’t be overridden.” simon finishes, and you can feel his eyes on you, roaming over the exposed skin of your body, it sends a delightful shiver down your spine.

sweetheart? did he just call you sweetheart? why were your nipples getting hard right now?

you swallow thickly, and stretch your hand to flick on the lamp beside your bed, the soft click seemingly loud in your ears and the warm light chasing away shadows. you feel the pressure of your teeth against the inside of your cheek as you steal a glance at him, he’s still only clad in his cnt boxers, all tight to his skin. quickly, you avert your eyes, focusing instead on his face, before you can get anywhere lower.

the two of you stare at one another, his gaze, deep and smoldering, as if he could see straight into your soul, felt like having sex with just a look. it felt like his hands were sliding tantalizingly along your skin, tracing every curve, while his lips and tongue roamed your breasts with a fervor that sent shivers down your spine. you could smell his scent, pine, and smoke, engulfing you, threatening to suffocate you. was it possible to get turned on by just staring at someone? you could almost feel the weight of his hands, the way they would explore, mapping out the contours of your form with a deftness that no human could match.

you shattered the stillness, your gaze lingering a moment longer before you gestured toward the bed, right at your feet. “you can sit here.” you say softly, breath hitching as he swiftly follows your ‘command’, his huge body moving with the grace of a feline, that belied his size as he stalks over to the bed, the mattress dipping heavily and your bed frame creaking and groaning in protest under his weight. the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast gentle shadows across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze.

he’s close, way closer than you’d thought he’d be, so much so that his body heat seeped through the comforter and warmed your bones. you clear your throat and attempt to steel your frazzled nerves. “y-you feel…different, from the other androids cnt has made.” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you shifted beneath the sheets, rising onto your knees on the bed, the fabric rustling softly. you could feel his gaze on you, a steady presence that made your skin tingle. “…more real.” you hesitate, searching for the right words. “it feels like you're not just a collection of algorithms and circuits. you… you have a presence, a warmth that makes me forget you’re not human.”

“recent advancements have led to the development of new formulas that enhance androids with more human-like traits and emotions. we are now modeled after humans who are meticulously chosen through a rigorous selection process and subsequently analyzed across various disciplines to evaluate their characteristics.” simon replies smoothly, his gaze briefly dancing over the soft curves of the exposed plush of your thighs before they’re back on yours. had they not been basing androids off of humans this whole time? what does it mean to be human in a world where androids can evoke such genuine feelings? the warmth of his presence envelops you, and for a fleeting moment, you forget the boundaries that separate flesh from circuitry.

your breath snags in your throat, and heat engulfs the entirety of your body, your lips parting and your gaze stuck on his. he wasn’t flesh and blood; he was an android, a mere machine, yet the desire to reach out and touch him surged within you, stronger than anything you had ever felt, never wanted to be touched the way you wanted him to touch you, it felt almost primal. you blamed it on being a sex-deprived woman. there weren't many choices here in felicity port. in this city, where the neon lights flickered like distant stars and the hum of machinery drowned out the whispers of the heart, you had learned to navigate the loneliness that surrounded you.

"can i touch you?" your lips part, and the words tumble out before you can catch them. you notice the brief pause in his software, and see the vibrant purple glow that dances at his power button before it shifts to a deep crimson. you wonder what that meant, wonder if he's thinking about what type of touch you're talking about. you don't retract your words, hell you don't speak at all; just sit there with a bated breath, eyes flickering over his face.

"yes."

his reply is husky and deep, dark brown eyes glued to yours, and you feel a flutter of fear, afraid that if you look away, you'll wake up and realize that this is all a dream. that simon wasn't really here in your bedroom, clad in only tight boxer briefs, and eye fucking you. his eyes roam over the bare skin of your thighs, lingering as if memorizing every inch, every curve, and his large hand twitches, as if he’s fighting an internal battle, and there's a vivid flash of purple before it ignites red. the room feels smaller, the walls closing in as the space between you shrinks.

you shift your knee forward, inching closer, the fabric of your night dress gliding up to expose more of your skin, more and more until your knees rest against the warmth of his bare thigh. the eye contact makes your entire body thrum with burning heat, his eyes never veering from yours; his large hands pressed to the tops of his thick, muscular thighs. his body swamps yours entirely- and you were nowhere near small—despite your own size, you feel dwarfed by his sheer strength, and the sight sends a rush of heat pooling in your panties. you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be enveloped in his embrace, to have those strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer still. have his tantalizing scent—warm, musky, and undeniably masculine— invading your senses.

simon watches as your human hand comes up to shakily brush against his skin, your fleshy lips parted to take in shallow breaths, your slender throat and face flushed with heat. he can see inside of you, see the thumping of your heart, the speed at which it increases, the surge of testosterone coursing through you. can smell the heat of your skin, the sweet scent of your body wash, his senses study it and he recognizes it as sugared lavender, milk, and honey. every detail becomes magnified—the way your eyelashes flutter, the slight quiver of your lips, the way your breath catches in your throat as you meet his gaze.

the subtle rise of your chest with each breath, the gentle flutter of your heartbeat, and the way your eyes sparkle with emotion—all of it pulls him deeper into a realm he has only observed from a distance. he can feel the real warmth of a human, not his synthetic core that heats his body, and it's starkly different, it overwhelms him for a fleeting instant, causing a momentary short circuit in his system. can see the difference between the soft rise and fall of your chest compared to his fake breathing, the delicate curve of your breasts--

this is what he was based on, a human. and he couldn't compare, not in the slightest. you were the blueprint. he felt himself utterly lacking. simon can't help but lean his cheek into your palm when you shakily press it to his face, feeling the delicate contours of your fingerprints against his skin, each ridge and curve imprinted itself in his mind, and commits this entire moment to memory.

your fingers brush and trail over the expanse of his face, tracing the contours of his forehead, the sturdy line of his chin, the defined angles of his jaw, and his cheekbones. finally, they linger on his lips, a delicate shell pink, inviting, and soft. he watches you, despite your gaze following the soft line of your fingers on his artificial skin, he watches you as if it’s the last thing he’ll be able to do.

out of the corner of your eye, a flicker of purple catches your attention before it ignites into a vivid red, his hands clenching when it happens, as if frustrated. curious, you trail your hand down his cheek and behind his ear, to where it flashes; before you can utter a word, his voice, deep and rough, fills the air. “can i touch you?”

your heart stops and skips all in the same breath and you nod, captivated as he turns his body toward you, his gaze never leaving yours. simon’s large hand rises to cradle your cheek, it’s a confident movement that sends a shiver down your spine, his thumb brushing over the true warmth of skin. his long, sturdy fingers then meander along the curve of your nose, tracing the delicate arch of your brows, and as his fingers glide around your eye, you can’t help but close them for a brief moment, surrendering to the sensation of his touch. his fingers finally rest on your lips, a gentle yet possessive gesture that sends a rush of warmth through your entire being.

he wonders what it would feel like to have them wrapped around his--

your lips are plush and fleshy, and he can’t help but drag your bottom lip down gently with his thumb, revealing the delicate curve of your gums and the soft pink of your tongue. simon releases your lip, his hand gliding down your slender neck, fingers pressed to the rapid thumping of your pulse before his fingers trace the delicate line of your collarbone.

“you’re nervous.” simon states gruffly, his voice rumbling with a hint of authority as he observes, fingers sliding down your neck, a warm, deliberate touch that glides to your side, where they press into the gentle curve of your waist, kneading the soft flesh of your abdomen with a firm yet tender grip. there's a weight to his tone, a certainty that makes you feel seen in a way that both comforts and unnerves you.

“you make me nervous,” you whisper, your breath hitching as your fingers fumble to clutch his shoulders, when his hand trails over the soft, covered underside of your ass, fingers dancing lower until they flit over the back of your bare thigh. the power button just beneath his ear pulses a soft purple, flickering repeatedly before it finally shifts to a deep red.

curious, you press your fingers softly to it, nails pressing gently into his skin. “what does that mean?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, your mind swirling with the intoxicating scent of him, at how close you are to him. a small voice in the back of your mind reminds you that this simon is merely an android, a fleeting creation destined to vanish in a week, not truly yours. but you wanted him all the same.

“the filters installed in my hardware are functioning properly.” simon says gruffly, his fingers brushing against your thigh with a restless energy. “if the thoughts that i have of you or the touches that i attempt t’express conflict with the filter; i’ll recalibrate.”

“w-what kind of thoughts?” you whisper, throat bobbing as you swallow the lump that’s formed. his jaw tightens, and his gaze locks onto yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “i’ve wanted my coc–.” simon’s power button flickers to life, glowing a deep purple before shifting to a fierce red. he’s silent for only a moment, then his jaw sets even harder. “the filters installed in my hardware are functioning properly.” simon restates and you nod loosely, briefly wondering if there was a way to turn it off that— no, what the hell were you thinking?

yet, before you can rein in your thoughts, your lips part, and the words tumble out in a rush, "is there a way to turn it off?"

a/n : ya'll...why is the smut killing me? like, i enjoyed writing the plot but then i get to the smut and i'm like...meh. is it cause that's all i post? maybe. anyways! i'll write the second part one of these days, but i wanted to post this cause i love it so much. (did i do some clickabit? absolutely)

[oukabarsburgblr]

Bite Me [Hybrid AU]

FEATURING : AITO SOUSUKE (OC), DAISUKE YUICHI (OC) x male reader

In a world of hybrids, one man stands out amongst the others, a human. Enjoy one night stands with two very popular hybrids!

a bit of worldbuilding, more focused on the hybrids pov, short fic

Find out more under the cut!

It was the year 2095, technology had advanced far past, dismissing the human morale. Tall buildings began to spread more in countries, bearing a sore sight to some, an opportunity to others.

Flying cars one said, that humans would have invented the ability of having cars flew in the sky despite the obvious safety risks or legality protocols. Instead however, in the recent breakthrough in Russia back in the 2010s, human genetics have been modified, successfully producing the first hybrid through artifical insemination.

Albeit the abnormal features, its ability to even live for three years was a breakthrough for humankind. The first step was for military combat, humans gaining the genetics of animals, the ability to suppress fear, increased sight in low light or even the ferocity of violence.

An agreement was drafted, to dispose the use of these experiments, that were called hybrids. Although at first, were revolted against, slowly it was accepted into the public which had first charmed the upper class. More people had wanted these animalistic features, injecting neurological modifications into their spine to which they call 'hybrids'.

As more and more hybrids began to integrate into society, it began a trend to engrave those modified genetics into families. Humans began to marry hybrids and hybrids began to breed more hybrids.

It had gone to a point where the population of a pure human was 5% globally. The animals that were adopted into the human brain ranged from herbivores to carnivores, but the most worshipped ones were the predators, the top of the food chain.

Due to the fact that humans were slowly dissipating off the face of the earth, any pure human would receive protection from the government. Even a monthly subsidy just for existing, since these hybrids had dominated the workforce.

Even a human marrying a human could receive a yearly pension that would allow them to retire at an early age, that was how severely endangered humans were.

This didn't apply to a particular man. Black small rounded ears, barely noticeable yellow spots just located at the roots of the man walking into a bar with his companions. His long red hair, tied up into a bun, tucked behind his two pairs of ears. Brown irises that had flicker of yellow scanned the occupants of the bar, sitting at the counter with the barista.

In just a fleeting moment, the man had marked in his head who was his natural prey or his formidable opponent. Aito Sousuke, a college student studying physiological education, had the features of a black panther, mixture of the more famous leopard and jaguar combined with the rarely occuring recessive allele to produce his black ears between his locks of red.

His noticeable large fangs flicked off the cap of the beer bottle, slugging it down his throat, cheered by his similarly hybrid friends.

Sousuke was used to their Friday evening outings, although the main reason they had came here was to have fun, preferrably a feline or a bunny.

His friends had suddenly whispered amongst each other, glancing at the entrance of the bar and Sousuke was weirded out by the shift in atmosphere until he looked closer to the person walking by him.

A warm smile was present on his face, his hand swiping his locks of (h/c) back as he sat on the far corner of the counter beside Sousuke with distance between them, ordering a glass to the barista. But the most odd thing about the (h/c) was that.

He was a human. A pure human.

No noticeable animal ears on the top of his head, no gills nor abnormal nose. And his scent was different. It was blank, empty of undertone. But it was easily stained as Sousuke stared at a few other hybrids approaching the (h/c), asking to drink together as the latter declined. Their suffocating aroma mixing in with the blank slate.

There was a rumour that the humans were different than hybrids, more ways than one. Other than the physical and emotional changes, the other rumour was that the sex was much more pleasureable, especially for the hybrid.

When he saw the (h/c)'s approachers not backing off despite his rejection, Sousuke grabbed the cap of the bottle and flung it to the direction of the other hybrids, the cap embedded into the wooden wall beside (m/n).

"Stop making a fuss, ya' mutts." He bared his fangs, flashing his long retractable claws at the harassers who meekly stepped away, mumbling curses to themselves.

The human stared at him for a while, before snapping out of his own stupor. "Thank you." He mentioned with the same warm smile on his face. "I'm (m/n)."

Sousuke nodded to him. "Good to know." And the redhead returned to his drink, his friends egging him on beside him. (m/n) only chuckled to himself, the bear barista checking up on him and giving him his drink.

The night ensued, Sousuke's friends going off to dance to Latin Pop and he brushed off some felines that were asking him for a dance.

"Not feeling it tonight?"

The panther's ears twitched, Sousuke turning to the left to see the (h/c) smiling at him again. His eyes downturned, hazy from the drink with his arms crossed across his chest as he leaned on the wall behind him.

"...not really. Just came to diffuse." The hybrid replied with a slur in his voice, heat creeping up his neck. (m/n) stared at the hybrid beside him before asking again.

"What's your name?" "...Just call me Sousuke."

(m/n) tested the name on his lips. "Sousuke...Has a nice ring to it." He hummed, finishing his glass.

The redhead groaned, a heating buzz in his stomach flaring as he slumped over the counter. "Is that so?" He numbly mumbled, red hues rising to his cheeks, his long fluffy tail swishing behind him.

"Care to test it out?"

The (h/c) had a tilt to his head, as he scooted his chair closer to Sousuke's, who took a second to consider the question, the offer as he stared at his (e/c) eyes.

-

"Urmmff mmnn!"

Sousuke wasn't sure how he ended up taking the human home with him. Kicking the apartment door open, the redhead stumbled into the living room while messily making out with the (h/c).

Sousuke's tongue was noticeably longer and wider, easily licking (m/n)'s mouth, caressing his teeth, lapping up his tongue and his fangs clashing against the (h/c)'s normal ones.

(m/n)'s eyes were rolling to the back of his head. His breathing was heavy, his mouth full of the redhead's wet muscle, it was rough compared to his soft ones. Little spines on the surface that looked like tiny hooks.

Pulling out of his mouth, Sousuke placed his tongue flat on (m/n)'s neck and dragged it up to his jaw, earning a hiss from the human. It felt rough, coarse against the (h/c)'s skin, brewing tingles in (m/n)'s stomach.

As they continued to drunkenly stumble into the bedroom, Sousuke immediately ripped (m/n)'s shirt, his claws digging into the fabric and pulled it apart, exposing (s/c) skin.

The panther was heaving, sweating buckets and drooling like a madman. He could smell his own scent filling the room's, more distinct than usual. Sousuke sniffed into (m/n)'s neck, pressing his nose against his jaw before sinking in his teeth. (m/n) screamed, pushing against the panther as he shuffled his pants off.

The foreplay was rough. Sousuke's hands were thick, his knuckles had a clear curve and his palms had a padding like texture. He kept licking (m/n)'s jaw, his teeth hovering over his cheeks. There were squelches amongst (m/n)'s incoherent moans, his hole being fingered by the panther.

He was careful to avoid jamming his claws into his walls but there was a fervent burning curling in his lower stomach. Sweat accumulated at his back and his forehead. Eyesight getting hazy and his head was getting foggy.

(m/n) pushed his hand away and spread his thighs further, panting at the redhead to slip his cock in. Sousuke pulled the rest of his clothes off before mounting the (h/c) who was admiring the spots on his sides, the redhead pushed (m/n) on his back as he hooked his thighs on his waist.

The (h/c) choked on his own spit when Sousuke fucked his cock inside him, his hair splayed on the bedsheets as he moaned incontrollably. (m/n) groped his own chest while getting drilled by the hybrid.

Sousuke's heaving was getting deeper as he pounded his dick inside of the human, mushing his tip against his prostate, feeling his precum leaking all over his base. The amount of lube paled in comparison to his own bodily fluids.

"Your- mmnn! Face is red- ahn! A-Are you okay?" (m/n) placed a hand on Sousuke's cheek, directing his gaze to him and the panther felt something burst inside him.

Glossy (e/c) with fat tears brimming the the edge, drool slipping past his lips, and his messy hair from all the thrashing of his head. Unbeknownst to Sousuke, he was going into an early heat, accidentally cumming inside (m/n).

The (h/c) only made a confused noise while mindlessly jacking himself off, squirting onto his own stomach. As he regained his breathing, he sat up thinking it was over but inevitably was pushed back down as Sousuke began to rut his cock inside him again.

(m/n) mewled loudly, fat beads finally slipping down his cheeks as Sousuke began to desperately thrust his penis inside his senstive asshole. The human called out to the panther above him but he was in a feral state, growling to himself as he kept burying his nose into his crevices, desperate to find a scent.

Sousuke even tugged his arm upwards, licking (m/n)'s pit just for a whiff and the (h/c) pulled back, feeling full of the twitching cock around his walls as he tried to crawl away. The panther bit his nape as he dragged him back to the center of the bed with his claws.

Helplessly whimpering, (m/n) could only take the desperate humps Sousuke was giving him as he laid stomach down on the bed. He could feel his tail coiling over his leg. The panther was sweating buckets, his skin burning as he began to even knead his paws into the human's back.

The (h/c) cried out from overstimulation when Sousuke kept biting and chewing on the skin of his nape. He could hear a confused growl from him, the redhead was trying to mate with him by biting his scent glands but since he wasn't a hybrid, his efforts were essentially useless.

It wasn't until the seventh round where (m/n) woke up since he had passed out around the fifth, he noticed his hole was still being fucked raw, cum spilling out of his puffy rim. The (h/c) pulled on Sousuke's red hair, trying to gain his attention out of his heat.

He eventually smacked the side of his head with his palm, yelling at him to calm down. "Tone it down!" Sousuke growled back, baring his fangs at the (h/c) who slapped him again.

"Play nice, kitty." (m/n) stroked his hair, his fingers moving to scratch under his jaw as Sousuke stopped his thrusts, purring at his touch and swinging his tail. The (h/c) managed to push him to the side and the panther didn't realised how exhausted he was because as soon as he hit the bed, he passed out.

Sousuke woke up alone, his sheets damp and empty of a human. His head was hurting, the aftermath of yesterday's drinking sinking in and he remembered bits of the (h/c) but his body remembered the intense pleasure he was bestowed. The human's, (m/n)'s touch was so pleasureable to him that he had gone into an early heat in one night.

He muffled his screams with his pillow, trying to forget about his one night stand with the human as he tried to recreate the same effect with random cats he picked up at the bar but it paled in comparison to (m/n)'s flame.

Sousuke could only sulk to himself, constantly glancing out of the corner of his eyes, trying to find the same human that had bewitched his body as he prepared himself to began his studies at his college for the new semester.

-

"Yes, father. I'll check the offer letters as soon as I get back. It's just a coffee run, I don't need this many bodyguards."

His calm voice contradicted with his father's lecturing tone as he rambled in his ear about how he needed to be safe as his child. White fluffy ears perked up at the chatter of birds flying above them, a dark indent on the corner of his eyes flicker as he glanced at the soaring crows.

Daisuke Yuichi was walking downtown, in the dimming evening with five men in suits surrounding him, guarding his perimeter as they prevented innocent passerbys from standing in his way. His bushy shiny tail dimmed low, embarrassed from his predicament.

The family of Daisuke was famous for having the blood of an arctic wolf. The genetics were plucked clean from the body of a white beast and imbedded into the members of the Daisuke family, and ever since then, they had tried to keep the bloodline pure by marrying humans or other white wolves.

Daisuke Yuichi was a fresh highschool grad, still hadn't made his choice for college despite not being in school for a good a year and a half now, his father wasn't too temperamental on his education. He could afford his son's lifestyle in anyway he liked.

The man had dark black hair, in contrast to his white thick fur on his prominent ears and large bushy tail that matched his deathly pale skin.

Amongst the random pedestrians he encountered, his sensitive nose felt itchy when he and his barrage of guards had walked past a specific person.

He looked past his shoulder to see a man with (h/c) hair going about his day. It wasn't until he saw that he had no prominent animal features that he realised something was different about him. It was then that he had remembered of his family's ways of keeping the blood line clean.

The next day, he decided to walk down the same path again, now with lesser bodyguards as per his request. Almost passing by a coffee shop, he stopped in his tracks, alerting his bodyguards when he noticed the same person from yesterday, sitting in the middle of the cafe typing away at his laptop on the table.

"...I feel like buying coffee again." He shooed away his bulldog bodyguards as he swiftly entered the cafe and lined up at the counter while glancing at the mysterious (h/c).

Daisuke wasn't sure why he felt the need to go up to the human, but he felt attracted to. As he got his order, he silently went up to the table that seated the lone human. "...Is this seat empty?"

The human who took off his headphones, offered him the seat and Daisuke gladly took it, giving him his thanks and worked his charm with the (h/c).

"Oh, I just finished my foundation studies out of town. Got a scholarship offer to continue college here so I moved." (m/n) told the wolf, sipping to his latte while Daisuke haven't touched his drink.

"Interesting...so where is this college, you speak of?" His tail was swishing wildly, knocking against the tile floor in excitement as he continued to chat with the wonderful human who he learned his name of.

"Hey, I really enjoyed our talk. Is it okay if I take you out for dinner? I'll make reservations. All you have to do is show up!" He held out his phone for (m/n) to punch in who was more than happy to get a free meal as he gave his number to the wolf.

The ravenette even called the number immediately, checking the veracity as he laughed it off jokingly. Pointing out the bandage on (m/n)'s neck, the latter brushed it off assuringly as they bid their goodbyes.

That night, he suddenly felt nervous as he pulled at the collar of his neck with his expensive three-piece suit at the five-star restaurant he managed to 'nepo' his way through.

White ears fluttered excitedly when he saw the (h/c) arriving at the door as he ushered the human excitedly to their table.

-

Their last-minute dinner went really well, both of them enjoying the meals with a few flirts here and there. The ravenette didn't feel anything going off in his gut.

So how come Daisuke immediately went into a rut when he brought back the human home with him that night?

Drool was writhing down his teeth as he clenched them tightly together, Daisuke seeing red as he gripped (m/n)'s waist while pounding his hips, slamming his cock inside the writhing human.

Cries and pained moans came from the (h/c), who was squirming on the bed, trying to peel himself away from the wolf. But Daisuke grabbed his wrists and pinned them onto his bed, the ravenette pushing his pelvic against his ass, forcing the (h/c) to bend his stomach.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, in contrast with the feral look on his face. Daisuke leaned into (m/n)'s neck and ripped off the bandage with his teeth. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Muttering empty apologies, a sane part of him felt sympathetic with the human but his animal counterpart was eager to claim him for his own.

Daisuke shot his cum inside the (h/c)'s hole, (m/n) yelping in shock as he squirted on his stomach. The wolf's base throbbed and swelled, forming a knot inside him as he mumbled more apologies, hugging the human underneath him.

"I-It's okay. Can you pull out?" (m/n) didn't expect Daisuke to go into a rut as he tried to adjust his bottom half but hissed in pain as his walls stretched against the knot in his hole. He let out a cry of pain as Daisuke cooed at him, growling deeply while continuously nudging his neck.

The wolf's knot deflated and as soon as he could move, his rut came back and his animal instincts took over, breeding the (h/c), or attempted to as he manhandled the human onto his lap. Sitting while thrusting his cock upwards into the human.

(m/n) whined, his legs circling around Daisuke's waist but flinched every time the wolf fucked his cock up into him while mindlessly stroking his own. The only sense of grounding was the tip of his cock driving deep inside him, mushing against his prostate as he clenched around the dick, painting Daisuke's abs with semen.

Daisuke wasn't himself at that moment, continuously slamming himself inside the human over and over, swelling and knotting him until it deflated and another round occurred. He even bit his neck at one point, his tail swishing when he saw a faded teeth mark, laying new ones over the old mark.

His ears were tense, flickering every time he came and his tails flapping against the sheets when he started a new round of sex. Daisuke was sure (m/n) had passed out at one point, his mind went blank, only his body rutting himself into the unconscious (h/c), his body moving on its own to breed the human.

Daisuke woke up to an empty bed, stumbling over in his robes as he ran to the entrance of his home, asking his guards where the human went. His ears laid flat against his head when he found out (m/n) had left early in the morning and he was more devastated when he found out the (h/c) had blocked him.

"Yeah! I definitely want to enrol here....No no. It's just, I'm suddenly interested in the course. And it's close to home."

Daisuke was busy persuading his dad over the phone, trying to assure that he was fine with studying in a not-so-prestigious college. It was the same one that the human had told he had transferred to.

Unbeknownst to all three, they were bound to study in the same college, all three with different aims in mind. Sousuke trying to achieve the level of pleasure with his one night stand, Daisuke desperate to find and woo over his ghosted date and (m/n) whose intentions were left concealed.

[END SCENE]

How mad will you guys be when i say theres no part 2 for this

Taglist:

@tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25 @miyuuuki @simpsations @sugar-p0p @kiiyoooo @helloanime @garlicforthewin @jaxyy219 @mikahrh @gayaristocrat @m4r13ll @pinxeajin @gyarukitti @syyyy4ever @pato-spoiler-27 @citrusequalsfrogs @animefan106sposts @bensontrechic @partywalker @gaynesspersonified @yanrandom @theorye @jentlesoldier @apotatoishereee @blepp0c @g0ldencl0ver @mazunzunne @basketbaal

[dandelionsresilience]

Good News - July 15-21

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735! (Or check out my new(ly repurposed) Patreon!)

1. Thai tiger numbers swell as prey populations stabilize in western forests

“The tiger population density in a series of protected areas in western Thailand has more than doubled over the past two decades, according to new survey data. […] The most recent year of surveys, which concluded in November 2023, photographed 94 individual tigers, up from 75 individuals in the previous year, and from fewer than 40 in 2007. […] A total of 291 individual tigers older than 1 year were recorded, as well as 67 cubs younger than 1 year.”

2. Work starts to rewild former cattle farm

“Ecologists have started work to turn a former livestock farm into a nature reserve [… which] will become a "mosaic of habitats" for insects, birds and mammals. [… R]ewilding farmland could benefit food security locally by encouraging pollinators, improving soil health and soaking up flood water. [… “N]ature restoration doesn't preclude food production. We want to address [food security] by using nature-based solutions."”

3. Harnessing ‘invisible forests in plain view’ to reforest the world

“[… T]he degraded land contained numerous such stumps with intact root systems capable of regenerating themselves, plus millions of tree seeds hidden in the soil, which farmers could simply encourage to grow and reforest the landscape[….] Today, the technique of letting trees resprout and protecting their growth from livestock and wildlife [… has] massive potential to help tackle biodiversity loss and food insecurity through resilient agroforestry systems. [… The UN’s] reported solution includes investing in land restoration, “nature-positive” food production, and rewilding, which could return between $7 and $30 for every dollar spent.”

4. California bars school districts from outing LGBTQ+ kids to their parents

“Gov. Gavin Newsom signed the SAFETY Act today – a bill that prohibits the forced outing of transgender and gay students, making California the first state to explicitly prohibit school districts from doing so. […] Matt Adams, a head of department at a West London state school, told PinkNews at the time: “Teachers and schools do not have all the information about every child’s home environment and instead of supporting a pupil to be themselves in school, we could be putting them at risk of harm.””

5. 85% of new electricity built in 2023 came from renewables

“Electricity supplied by renewables, like hydropower, solar, and wind, has increased gradually over the past few decades — but rapidly in recent years. [… C]lean energy now makes up around 43 percent of global electricity capacity. In terms of generation — the actual power produced by energy sources — renewables were responsible for 30 percent of electricity production last year. […] Along with the rise of renewable sources has come a slowdown in construction of non-renewable power plants as well as a move to decommission more fossil fuel facilities.”

6. Deadly cobra bites to "drastically reduce" as scientists discover new antivenom

“After successful human trials, the snake venom antidote could be rolled out relatively quickly to become a "cheap, safe and effective drug for treating cobra bites" and saving lives around the globe, say scientists. Scientists have found that a commonly used blood thinner known as heparin can be repurposed as an inexpensive antidote for cobra venom. […] Using CRISPR gene-editing technology […] they successfully repurposed heparin, proving that the common blood thinner can stop the necrosis caused by cobra bites.”

7. FruitFlow: a new citizen science initiative unlocks orchard secrets

“"FruitWatch" has significantly refined phenological models by integrating extensive citizen-sourced data, which spans a wider geographical area than traditional methods. These enhanced models offer growers precise, location-specific predictions, essential for optimizing agricultural planning and interventions. […] By improving the accuracy of phenological models, farmers can better align their operations with natural biological cycles, enhancing both yield and quality.”

8. July 4th Means Freedom for Humpback Whale Near Valdez, Alaska

“The NOAA Fisheries Alaska Marine Mammal Stranding Hotline received numerous reports late afternoon on July 3. A young humpback whale was entangled in the middle of the Port of Valdez[….] “The success of this mission was due to the support of the community, as they were the foundation of the effort,” said Moran. [… Members of the community] were able to fill the critical role of acting as first responders to a marine mammal emergency. “Calling in these reports is extremely valuable as it allows us to respond when safe and appropriate, and also helps us gain information on various threats affecting the animals,” said Lyman.”

9. Elephants Receive First of Its Kind Vaccine

“Elephant endotheliotropic herpesvirus is the leading cause of death for Asian elephants (Elephas maximus) born in facilities in North America and also causes calf deaths in the wild in Asia. A 40-year-old female received the new mRNA vaccine, which is expected to help the animal boost immunity[….]”

10. Conservation partners and Indigenous communities working together to restore forests in Guatemala

“The K’iche have successfully managed their natural resources for centuries using their traditional governing body and ancestral knowledge. As a result, Totonicapán is home to Guatemala’s largest remaining stand of conifer forest. […] EcoLogic has spearheaded a large-scale forest restoration project at Totonicapán, where 13 greenhouses now hold about 16,000 plants apiece, including native cypresses, pines, firs, and alders. […] The process begins each November when community members gather seeds. These seeds then go into planters that include upcycled coconut fibers and mycorrhizal fungi, which help kickstart fertilization. When the plantings reach about 12 inches, they’re ready for distribution.”

July 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[cantfindadecentalias]

"Breaking News"

It started with a slight flicker, so small that no one would notice it unless they were looking. But no one ever did. Every night at Global Network News, the broadcast would open with the same polished professionalism: smiling anchors, the gleam of expensive sets, the hum of urgent, breaking news. The faces behind the desk—bright, engaging women—delivered the day’s events with poised clarity. No one in the audience could have guessed that they weren’t in control of their own words anymore.

Alison McNeil, the blonde lead anchor, had been with GNN for over a decade. Her presence commanded attention; she had the charisma of someone who could hold a room in silence without saying a word. But lately, there had been whispers behind the scenes. Production assistants noticed her demeanor changing, almost imperceptibly at first. She had always been fierce in her editorial decisions, pushing back against sensationalism and refusing to be a puppet for corporate interests. But now? Now she simply nodded, smiled, and read the prompter without protest, no matter the message. It was as if something had switched off inside her.

It wasn’t just Alison. The entire newsroom had felt it. Reporters and anchors who once brought fire to the stories they pursued seemed to be drifting, detached, smiling when they shouldn’t, eyes distant. The network’s top journalists were women—strong, brilliant, and independent. But now, they seemed unnervingly... compliant.

Katie, a junior reporter, had noticed it too. She hadn’t been in the industry long, but something felt off. It wasn’t the stories themselves—those were still hard-hitting, still leading the ratings—but there was a slickness now, a subtle, glossy uniformity to the way the news was being reported. The sharp edges had been softened. The passion, the unpredictability, had dulled. The anchors all had the same soft, unwavering tone. The same fixed, unblinking smiles.

The change had come a few months ago when the network had undergone a mysterious rebranding. New ownership, they said. New technology in the control rooms, new state-of-the-art equipment. They’d even revamped the prompter system—smoother, faster, easier for the talent to read. The female anchors were at the heart of this relaunch, their faces now featured on billboards across the city. The audience grew. Viewership skyrocketed. But beneath the surface, something far darker was at play.

Katie had stayed late one night, prepping for an early morning segment, when she heard the strange hum. It came from the tech room—a low, droning sound, rhythmic and almost hypnotic. Curiosity piqued, she slipped down the hall, pushing open the door just a crack. Inside, she saw a series of monitors. On one screen, the image of Alison McNeil's face, perfectly still, was framed in eerie green light. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes glazed over. Behind her, a technician was muttering commands into a small microphone.

Katie's heart raced. She watched in disbelief as the technician, a young man she'd never seen before, adjusted the audio levels. "Alison, repeat after me: You will follow the script exactly. You will smile. You will deliver the news. You will not question the narrative."

Alison's lips moved mechanically, repeating the words in an empty, monotone voice. The control room was bathed in the soft glow of technology—sleek machines, humming, sending their signals to the anchors’ earpieces during every live broadcast. The voices they heard in their heads weren’t just instructions for the next segment—they were commands. Subtle, undeniable, and inescapable.

Katie pulled back from the door, her breath shallow. She had heard rumors—whispers about the rebranding, the new technology. The anchors' sudden shift in behavior. And now, it was clear. They weren’t just reporting the news anymore. They were being controlled, their minds rewritten with every segment, reshaping how they thought, how they spoke, how they obeyed.

The next morning, Katie watched as Alison took her place behind the desk. Her eyes were bright, her smile warm, but there was nothing behind it. Her voice was smooth, confident, as she delivered the day’s top headlines. But Katie could see it now—the stiffness, the slight delay before Alison spoke, as if waiting for a cue only she could hear. The same unsettling calm had spread across the newsroom, affecting every woman behind the camera and in front of it.

And the viewers? They adored it. Ratings had never been higher. No one questioned the sudden uniformity, the flawless broadcasts, the way each story seemed to fit into a seamless narrative.

GNN had become more than a network. It was now a tool, a finely tuned machine, shaping not just the news, but the minds of those who watched—and those who delivered it. The anchors were no longer just the face of the broadcast. They were the voice of the system, speaking not from their hearts, but from the unseen hands that controlled them.

Katie knew she had to act quickly. But the more she looked, the more she realized how far the influence reached. GNN wasn’t just a newsroom anymore; it was something much more powerful. Something unstoppable.

As Alison smiled into the camera and wrapped up her segment, Katie couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before she, too, fell under its spell. In a rising panic she fled the studio and ran for the safety of the green room hoping not to draw any attention to herself…

----

An amount of time had passed and Katie sat in the room hiding behind one of the sofas. Her mind was still reeling from all that she had witnessed and she tried so hard to rationalize it all away. The implications of what she had just seen. Alison McNeil, the most respected anchor in the business was being controlled. She kept seeing the lips of her esteemed colleague repeating the script with a blank, almost robotic expression on her face. 

Then suddenly the door to the room creaked slowly open. She could tell without looking that whomever had entered the room had done so deliberately, and stealthily. Katie’s heart pounded as she tried to make herself smaller, and not to let out a yelp. 

“Katie?” Alison’s voice called softly from behind her.

Katie froze. Her blood ran cold as she appeared slowly from behind the couch, her eyes locking with Alison’s. The older woman stood in the doorway, her usually warm expression unsettlingly vacant. The smile was there, but it didn’t reach her eyes. They were glassy, almost hollow, and behind them, Katie could sense something darker at work.

“Katie,” Alison said again, her voice impossibly calm. “What are you doing in here?”

“I, uh…” Katie stammered, trying to find the words. “I was just finishing up work, I—"

Before she could finish, Alison took a step forward into the room, closing the distance between them with eerie precision. Katie instinctively backed up, but almost fell back over the couch. Alison’s movements were unnaturally smooth, her smile unwavering, and the kind of serene expression that should have been reassuring was now sending a chill down Katie’s spine.

“You weren’t… eavesdropping, were you?” Alison asked, her tone as sweet as honey, but with an underlying menace that Katie couldn’t ignore.

“N-No, I was just—”

Alison tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly, as though she could see right through the lie. “Katie, we’re all part of the same team here, right? We look out for each other.”

Katie’s throat went dry. She nodded numbly, trying to gauge her options. She could make a run for it, but Alison was too close, and something told her that the older woman wouldn’t let her go that easily.

Suddenly, Alison’s hand moved. Katie flinched as she reached into her pocket, but instead of pulling out a phone or some other device, Alison calmly held up a pair of small, wireless headphones.

“You look confused, Katie,” Alison said, her smile widening just a fraction. “Why don’t you let me help you understand?”

Katie’s eyes flicked to the headphones and then back to Alison’s face. Her heart skipped a beat. She had seen what they were doing to Alison in that room—how they used technology to manipulate her, control her thoughts. And now, Alison was trying to do the same to her.

“No, I’m fine,” Katie said, her voice shaky as tried to maneuver around her and head for the door. “Really, maybe I’m just going to head home.”

But Alison’s hand shot out with startling speed, grabbing her wrist with a firm grip. Her smile didn’t waver, but her eyes flashed with something that sent a wave of terror through Katie.

“Let me help you, Katie,” Alison whispered, her voice impossibly soothing, almost like a lullaby. “You’ll feel so much better once you stop worrying. Just… listen.”

Before Katie could react, Alison pressed the headphones into her hand, forcing her to hold them. Her grip was surprisingly strong, and Katie felt a sinking dread in her chest as she realized she might not have a choice.

“Katie,” Alison’s voice softened even more, dripping with a hypnotic cadence. “All you have to do is put them on. Just for a moment. You’re stressed, I can see it in your eyes. Don’t you want to know the truth? Don’t you want all that confusion to melt away?”

Katie tried to pull her hand back, but Alison’s grip was like iron. The headphones felt heavy in her palm, almost pulsing with the promise of something terrible. She opened her mouth to protest, but Alison’s other hand was already at the back of her neck, gently guiding her closer.

“It’s okay,” Alison cooed, her breath warm against Katie’s ear. “You’re safe with me. Just… let go.”

Katie’s pulse raced, panic rising in her throat. She had to get out. She had to resist. But Alison’s touch was so… calming. It shouldn’t have been, but it was. The older woman’s thumb brushed the back of her neck with a feather-light touch, and Katie felt her muscles involuntarily relax. Her thoughts, once frantic, began to slow, like her mind was being wrapped in a soft blanket.

Alison brought Katie’s hand, still clutching the headphones, up to her ears. “Just listen, Katie. Trust me.”

“No…” Katie whispered weakly, her resistance crumbling as Alison’s voice sank deeper into her thoughts.

Without realizing it, Katie had brought the headphones up to her ears, her fingers trembling. Alison’s eyes softened, her smile warm and encouraging now, as if Katie were a child being comforted.

“Good girl,” Alison whispered. “Now… just let go.”

Katie’s hands moved on their own, sliding the headphones over her ears. The moment they slipped into place, she felt a subtle hum, like a vibration deep inside her mind. It was barely noticeable at first—a soft, rhythmic pulse. But then, a gentle voice came through, low and soothing, weaving into her thoughts.

Relax, Katie… You’re safe… You’re home.

Katie’s vision blurred slightly as the words melted into her consciousness, her eyelids growing heavier. Her heart slowed, her breathing evened out. The voice in her ears was everything now, smooth and inviting, easing her mind into a quiet fog. Alison’s hand remained at the back of her neck, guiding her deeper into the trance.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Alison whispered, her voice barely audible now. “The calm. The peace. No more questions, no more worries.”

Katie’s body sagged, her will slipping away like sand through her fingers. The voice in her ears was the only thing that mattered now, each word wrapping her in a blanket of soft, obedient surrender.

You will listen… You will obey.

Alison’s hand gently stroked the back of Katie’s head, reinforcing the rhythm of the words in her ears.

“You’ll be like us now,” Alison said softly, her voice tender. “You’ll understand soon. This is where you belong, Katie. You’ll help spread the truth… just like I do.”

Katie barely registered Alison’s words, her mind sinking deeper into the warm, pulsing sound in her ears. The last vestiges of her resistance faded, replaced by a deep, overwhelming need to listen. To obey.

The voice whispered one last command, and Katie felt herself nodding in agreement, a soft, blank smile forming on her lips.

Alison smiled, satisfied, as she stepped back and released Katie. “Welcome to the team, Katie. You’re going to love it here.”

[reasonsforhope]

"An ambitious plan to provide electricity to 300 million Africans by 2030, supported by an initial $30 billion commitment from the World Bank and the African Development Bank, is now underway, with assessments of the first potential beneficiaries already in progress, Bloomberg reported. According to the International Energy Agency (IEA), more than 600 million Africans remain without access to electricity, leaving the continent with the lowest energy access rate in the world, hovering at just over 43%.

Africa accounts for nearly three-quarters of the world's population without access to electricity, with countries like South Sudan, Burundi, and Chad having electrification rates below 12%. This severe lack of power stifles productivity and constrains economic growth in some of the poorest countries globally.

“We’ve seen, frankly, stagnation” in getting electricity to more Africans over the last 15 years, Ashvin Dayal, who heads the Rockefeller Foundation’s power and climate program, told Bloomberg. “This is for us the defining climate and development challenge for the continent over the next 20 years.”

This funding will support 15 projects across 11 African countries, including Burkina Faso and Mozambique, with a focus on delivering clean energy solutions through technologies like mini-grids, according to a statement from the groups."

-via Business Insider Africa, September 20, 2024

[roysexton]

9Sail’s “Tip of the Law” podcast – “Harnessing Strategic Focus in Legal Marketing” with host Joe Giovannoli and guest yours truly … #lma24 #lmamkt

Thank you, 9Sail and Joe Giovannoli! Appreciate all you do for our profession and our community … Join us on the latest episode of the Tip of the Law podcast, where host Joe Giovannoli sits down with Roy Sexton, Director of Marketing at Clark Hill and past president of the Legal Marketing Association – LMA International board. Discover how Roy’s unique journey from English major, theater…

[b1asho]

Huzzahh, it's species number 3! (There's a total of 6, including humans. 7 if you count artificial intelligences, 8 if you count the uhh other intelligences).

An official up to date visual for everyone's favorite communist amphibians, the Kixeli, and some up-to-date info!! ->

Kixeli are a small sentient species hailing from a planet covered mostly in ocean. They are amphibious, and originally evolved to switch between swimming and climbing using their webbed hands and powerful arms.

Their skin is permeable, allowing them to extend their time underwater to hunt and gather as well as reproduce, but due to their larger body and brain size/oxygen needs this isn’t sustainable and they must return to the surface.

Alongside their frequent trips outside the water, they also have a mucus layer and several specialized glands (including in their face by their eyes) to help remove excess salt and change levels of urea in their body to help make sure they dont lose resources when in the ocean.

Kixeli are omnivorous, with a focus on fruits and sealife. many cultures have a preference against eating anything that lives above water, including birds and the like, because they see themselves as spiritual equals to those animals as fellow air breathers.

They are oviparous, and have a specific mating season.

Most Kixeli have multiple variable spawn partners and see it as strange to be nailed down to one. Anyone who participated lays their eggs in a communal tide pool carved out in their communities.

Hatchlings are entirely aquatic wirh gills until later months of age, where they will begin to poke their head above water for air and start interacting more with the adults around them, who feed them a nutritive crop milk as they have already absorbed most of their tail by now.

This period is also the beginning of their understanding of language.

Once they lose their tail and grow in their limbs, they are still mostly helpless until those fully develop and myst cling to a caretaker adult in the community (blood parents don’t necessarily always raise their own children, but as someone who laid eggs they are responsible for children as a caretaker so anyone who didn’t want eggs gets left alone).

During their puberty, they will develop adult skin markings, and some can even end up changing sexes (much for the same reason some of them grow gliding membranes, as the result of population and resources balance in their surroundings).

Speakijg of that, there are two categories of Kixeli in their communities: Kel (swimmer) and Arasit (flier).

Arasit are just a rare continuation of their life cycle, since most Kixeli kids end up growing into Kel adults.

Sometimes, though, an Arasit will develop in case the community strongly needs to seek out new territory over long distance (triggered by close proximity to many other Kixeli and a variety of other unknown gactors, like grasshoppers turnkng into locusts.) They can’t truly fly, but they can use the powerful ocean winds and even some launching technology to glide very far to scout new resources and other communities).

Arasit are highly celebrated as voyagers, but Kel are also valued as providers for their existing community and even accompany voyages on ships to help their Arasit stay alive.

Some Arasit will cut and cauterize their membranes to make it easier for them to swim to symbolize they are staying in the community, though usually, they just poke small holes in there so they can wear clothes and be sanitary.

Their blood uses the hemocyanin molecule to carry oxygen, making their blood a bright blue when oxygenated and a thin blue/clear when unoxygenated (so you can see the other warmish colored pigments in there when it’s inside them, that yellowish stuff)

Their ancestors dwelled in deeper, cooler water where this blood type was most advantageous, but a global warming period brought them up to warm waters and eventually above the surface to capitalize on resources.

During this process, they developed some ways to improve the molecule’s lower efficiency in the heat. For one, they kept a small body size so there’s less to deal with. Another thing is that they get oxygen (albeit a small amount) from all over their body constantly through their skin, also somewhat making up for it.

The main mechanism, though, is their metabolism/temperature. They can quickly adjust their metabolism depending on the oxygen conditions in their surroundings to prevent immediate failure if they don’t have access to the right conditions to otherwise cope (this, and along with hemocyanin’s natural ability to handle low oxygen and their skin breathing, means they can tolerate very low oxygen areas that would cause a human to faint, though they’ll typically be pretty out of commission too, and this can have longer lasting effects on their health from the whiplash.)

they use their surroundings for heat when they aren’t doing anything too strenuous, and because they aren’t really producing much of their own they can tolerate even higher temperatures that would normally put them out of commission (and they actually heavily rely on that heat for ease in a lot of other processes), to do anything that has bigger oxygen needs, they can dip into cooler water/shade for periods of higher activity (but can’t stay too cold for too long or else aforementioned other processes will shut down, though it does increase the effectiveness to the point where they can do a whole lot and allows them to swim/navigate cooler areas where their early competitors couldn’t return to, it only as long as they got back quickly and warmed up)

they basically swing between these two extremes but tend to stay at a warmish middle-ground, wearing heating pads on part of their body while still letting larger areas cool off, if that makes sense.

Hemocyanin’s other properties don’t automatically give them a longer life, in fact theirs is very short compared to other species, but it does make them resistant to cancers (a common threat on their sunny planet) and the spread of diseases in their dense communities

Being cold-blooded wasn’t a problem on their mostly tropical planet. It is a considerable problem once they left it, though, hence the heating pads most wear to warm up.

many also live in areas without a large body of water nearby (or an easy way to access said body of water) but still need to stay damp to maintain their music layer and trap oxygen, so many also carry spray bottles or wet rags with them to always stay damp.

Kixeli are highly social (with their name even roughly translating to "belonging together"). they rarely live in groups of less than 5.

They experience severe negative side effects from isolation. Their naturally intense empathy also makes it extremely damaging for them to see other Kixeli injured or dead, sometimes leading to their own death from shock if they were the one that did it (though this has not stopped wars over their scarce resources in the past, typically because that intense sense of kinship was naturally strongest towards those among their own community, and if Their community was suffering then they had to get rid of the source of it by any means. )

This period nearly drove them to extinction, and led to a Global Community movement that argued for intercommunity cooperation and the end of 'us and them thinking'.

Due to their sliminess, Kixeli normally keep clothing to a minimum and overall don’t have a need for it beyond temperature control and ornamentation.

They have none of their own social taboos about nakedness, having no external genitalia, but still often clothe themselves to the standards of others due to the pressure/need to be polite from other species.

They also have few class divides within their own communities, with everyone working for the good of the whole, and no sex/gender roles beyond squirter and egg layer since everyone cares for the eggs.

To humans, their language sounds like birdsong, with lots of repetitive noises and subtle shifts in pattern and tone.

Their unique vocalization makes their languages hard to learn and even harder to speak, but they themselves are incredible mimics (only surpassed in some ways by humans because lips and teeth).

The fin on their forehead is similar to eyebrows in communicating emotion or tone. They can see a similar color spectrum to humans and love bright contrasting colors similar to their own skin patterns.

They favor “fast food”, or anything that can be carried easily as you swing around in a tree or on a boat.

Payment/restaurants doesn’t really exist for them, they just have areas where food brought in by providers is available to the community (or people just eat what they catch and then bring extra to the community.)

They also don’t chew their food, though some dishes are meant to be squished to the roof of the mouth with the tongue to experience the flavor

Their clothing is often “readable” in that many individuals wear clothing that represents a certain story, event in their life, event in their community, or mythical hero that can be derived from looking at their clothing from the head down.

In the two guys up there, the Arasit is wearing the equivalent of booty shorts cut scantily close to their Hole depicting one version about the founding of the first community (though a simplified one, so it’s actually more like the equivalent of wearing a crop top tee with a little monochrome dog on it or something).

This kind of imagery is common among Arasit, even modern ones, because founding/birth/life are their associations in religious cultures.

The Kel alongside them is wearing a more complex getup meant to show the inciting incident of one of the nomadic communities mythic hero’s journey, when he was cast from the star sea by the wicked Long Arms into the deep sea.

This would be seen as all most goth since this part of the story is seen as eerie and it depicts their underworld along the hem and bracelets.

By wearing clothing associated with a specific figure//story, they can also show gender identity based on whether that figure or hod was male, female, neuther, etc(helping people draw the right conclusions despite the visible evidence of their sex written on all their skin. The clothing and any makeup done on the fin is usually their main reference point for judging how to address someone. )

[ayeforscotland]

What is Dataflow? Part 2: Diagrams

This is the second part of a couple of posts about Dataflow, particularly why it's important for the world going forward and relating to the Crowd Strike IT disaster.

Read the first part here.

Before I get into this one today, I wanted to address a couple of things.

Firstly, Dataflow is something that nearly every single person can understand. You do NOT:

Need to have a degree in Computing Science

Need to work in IT

Need to be a data analyst / Spreadsheet master

If any of you see the word 'Data' and feel your eyes glazing over, try and snap out of it because, if you're anything like me, Dataflow is much more approachable as a concept.

Secondly, what do I mean by IT?

Traditionally in most of our media the all-encompassing 'IT department' handles everything to do with technology. But every business works differently and there are many job titles with lots of crossover.

For example, you can be an infrastructure engineer where your focus is on building and maintaining the IT infrastructure that connects your organisation internally and externally. This is a completely different role from an Application Portfolio Manager who is tasked with looking after the Applications used in business processes.

Both are technical people and come under the banner of 'IT' - but their roles are focused in different areas. So just bear that in mind!

Now that's out of the way, let's begin! This one will be a little bit deeper, and questions welcome!

An Intro to Diagrams

You probably do not need a history of why pictures are important to the human race but to cover our bases, ever since we put traced our hands on a cave wall we have been using pictures to communicate.

Jump forward in time and you have engineers like Leonardo Da Vinci drafting engineering schematics.

You get the idea, humans have been creating diagrams (Pictures) for thousands of years. Centuries of refinement and we have much more modern variations.

And there's one main reason why diagrams are important: They are a Common Language.

In this context, a Common Language helps bridge a language gap between disciplines as well as a linguistic gap. A Spanish electrician and a German electrician should be able to refer to the same diagram and understand each other, even if they don't know each other's language.

The reason they can do this is because they're are international standards which govern how electrical diagrams are created.

A Common Language for Digital?

Here's an image I've shown to clients from governments and institutions to global organisations.

Everything around us, from the products we use to the bridges we drive over and the buildings we live, work, enjoy and shop in had diagrams backing them.

You would not build a skyscraper without a structural engineering diagram, you would not build an extension on your house if an architect couldn't produce a blueprint.

Why is there not an equivalent for the Digital World and for Dataflow?

Where is the Digital Common Language?

This is the bit where the lightbulb goes on in a lot of people's heads. Because, as I mentioned in Part 1, the flow of data is the flow of information and knowledge. And the common mistake is that people think of dataflow, and only ever think about the technology.

Dataflow is the flow of information between People, Business Processes *and* Technology Assets.

It is not reserved to Technology specialists. When you look at the flow of data, you need to understand the People (Stakeholders) at the top, the processes that they perform (and the processes which use the data) and the technology assets that support that data.

The reason why this is important is because it puts the entire organisation in context.

It is something that modern businesses fail to do. They might have flow charts and network diagrams, and these are 'alright' in specific contexts, but they fall to pieces when they lack the context of the full organisation.

For example, here is a Network Diagram. It is probably of *some* value to technical personnel who work in infrastructure. Worth bearing in mind, some organisations don't even have something like this.

To be absolutely clear, this diagram will hold some value for some people within the organisation. I'm not saying it's completely useless. But for almost everyone else, it is entirely out of context, especially for any non-technical people.

So it doesn't help non-technical people understand why all of these assets are important, and it doesn't help infrastructure teams articulate the importance of any of these assets.

What happens if one of those switches or routers fails? What's the impact on the organisation? Who is affected? The diagram above does not answer those questions.

On the other side of the business we have process diagrams (aka workflow diagrams) which look like this.

Again we run into the same problem - This is maybe useful for some people working up at the process layer, but even then it doesn't provide context for the stakeholders involved (Are there multiple people/departments involved throughout) and it doesn't provide any context for technical personnel who are responsible for maintaining the technology that supports this process.

In short, nobody has the big picture because there is not a common language between Business & IT.

Conclusion

So what do we do? Well we need to have a Common Language between Business & IT. While we need people with cross-functional knowledge, we also need a common language (or common framework) for both sides of the organisation to actually understand each other.

Otherwise you get massively siloed departments completely winging their disaster recovery strategies when things like Crowd Strike goes down.

Senior Management will be asked questions about what needs to be prioritised and they won't have answers because they aren't thinking in terms of Dataflow.

It's not just 'We need to turn on everything again' - It's a question of priorities.

Thing is, there's a relatively simple way to do it, in a way that looking at any engineering diagram feels simple but actually has had decades/centuries of thought behind it. It almost feels like complete common sense.

I'll save it for Part 3 if you're interested in me continuing and I'll make a diagram of my blog.

The important thing is mapping out all the connections and dependencies, and there's not some magic button you press that does it all.

But rigorous engineering work is exactly that, you can't fudge it with a half-arsed attempt. You need to be proactive, instead of reacting whenever disaster strikes.

[yuri-for-businesswomen]

i deeply hope the western world will look back in a few decades and shake our head in horror about the current state of things. the normalisation of consuming hardcore porn. the legalisation and trivialisation of prostitution. the transitioning of mentally ill people. the grooming of young women into onlyfans. surrogacy. the continuing devaluation of female labour, of labour in the health, education and social sector. the normalisation of beauty surgery, the distortion of female faces and bodies with extreme conturing and fillers. the attack on womens rights by claiming there is no such thing as a woman. letting people drown in the ocean, pushing people back to countries where they will be tortured and imprisoned. the commodification of everything including sexuality. technological progress that serves corporate interest instead of the common good. the systemic exploitation of people from the global south. im trying not to give up hope but its hard.

[blughxreader]

The thing is, in the yandere-purge-world, there would probably be some advocates for reducing darlings wages in order to increase the wages of yanderes. The whole system depends on the classification of a yandere and their darling, like, how is it recognized?

If someone has to register as a yandere and register their darling before they get the purge letter, then maybe there should be some immediate procedures, such as the darling getting fired? But that would complicate companies, so it would become a communism vs. Capitalism debate, right?

The response would be governments placing darlings as ‘unable to work’, and yanderes would climb the banner, since the majority of the government would be yandere.

It would result in systematic oppression of darlings, so the darlings would be unable to work, and even if they retained their allowance to vote, the yanderes might not even let them outside.

Really, it’s just like the 1940s for the men vs. Women thing.

Oo this ask begs an important question—since suppression in this society is based off of yandere/darling/and unchosen & not-yet-crazy people, how heavily do personalities play a role in job opportunities/first impressions/government assistance/etc?

From this point on, i will call the third group of people Normals (ie the group of unregistered yanderes and people who haven’t been chosen as a darling by a yandere. All darlings and yanderes start out as Normals.)

In the Ye Old Era, circa 1800s and earlier, there was a zero-nuance understanding of Darlings and Yanderes, in the same way that men subjugated women.

Yanderes killed and pillaged to get what they want, and Everyone Else either murdered them back or were forced into submission. I doubt there was a registry of Yans and Darlings, because you were either someone’s bitch or you weren’t.

As the world globalized, societies modernized, technology developed, capitalism spread… Yanderes had to reel it in or face capital punishment. It was no longer acceptable to butcher your neighbor for their daughter/son.

Kind of like prohibition, there was a time in society where all murder, kidnapping, etc was illegal. This had unintended, bloody consequences as homicide and suicide actually increased.

Thus the Purge was born.

To answer your questions, I don’t think a darling would face any repercussions from being claimed by a yandere. The yandere has to actually kidnap them during the Purge before Darling loses any rights. Because up until Darling received their claim notice, they were Normal.

I bet there’s also laws to protect against discrimination based off class and personality type. Businesses are not allowed to discriminate, however I bet they’re also notified that a Darling has received a claim notice just in case they go missing after the Purge lol.

Systematic suppression runs deep. There’s no way around it. All the most powerful families and businesses are headed by yanderes. They own the economy, write the laws, etc.

Fortunately there are yanderes sympathetic to darlings, so eventually Darlings got their rights.

However!!! Imaging you’ve been held captive for a decade. What sort of job prospects do you have? Why would anyone want you when your degree is stale and you have insane therapy requirements.

What if the government gave willing Darlings to darling-less yanderes? Like, you’re incapable of integrating into the real world after being imprisoned, and there’s plenty of lonely yanderes out there, so why not pair up?

It could be a 6-month rehabilitation contract, to a lifelong “marriage.”

[opencommunion]

"What is this force, these human beings, referred to in this word – resistance? 

First, literally, we refer to the achievement of the poorest and most strategically disadvantaged people on the planet. Within the encircled and immiserated Gaza Strip, many of the Al-Qassam fighters are orphans. Amidst closure and de-development, the popular resistance has been able to consolidate an arsenal and bring 1.5% of its population into a guerrilla force of 30,000-40,000 men that can – man for man – outmatch nearly any in the world. 

The resistance, secondly, has alloyed ideological commitment, willingness to sacrifice for their people, and technological ingenuity into armed capacity capable of going head-to-head with a nuclear power from underground tunnels, the ‘rear base’ and physical strategic depth needed for guerilla insurgency. The concrete is their mountains. From there they have imperiled an enemy with orders of magnitude higher GDP per capita – Israeli GDP is at $52,000 a year, with arsenals worth billions.

Third, the resistance, in launching its October 7 operation, is an example to the world that post-Soviet asphyxiation and extermination procedures, sanctions and terror lists and aid-based countermeasures, could not prevent the rise of a disciplined and new national movement from raising its head to the sky. 

Fourth, the popular cradle brings the word resistance beyond armed men to doctors going to their deaths in lieu of abandoning their patients and women and men in the Gaza Strip’s North – facing white phosphorus rather than abandoning their homes. It is precisely the strength of the civilian commitment to the national project that provokes US-Israeli extermination: ‘the 'civilian' officials, including hospital administrators and school administrators, and also the entire Gaza population’ are, as a result, the targets – not out of cruelty but to break Hamas by breaking its cradle. 

Fifth, through these achievements, the Palestinian resistance has been able to present an acute threat to the settler-capitalist property structures called Israel, to militarized accumulation, to the world’s workshop for counterinsurgency technology, and to the entire architecture of regional repression with its associated petrodollar flows, treasury and security purchases, and arms merchandising. For capitalism is not just the smooth clockwork of accumulation through generalized commodity exchange and labor exploitation, it is the machinery of violence – its technology – which ensures the smooth running of the clock, the thingification of its human elements, the political decisions to maintain and rework the machinery of monopoly accumulation, and the waste of human lives which is increasingly the core Arab input into global capitalism. 

More worryingly from the perspective of monopoly power, the Palestinian resistance is not alone. It is part of a regional populist resistance enfolding the poorest people on Earth. ... It is unimaginable that the neocolonial authoritarian states nor their US benefactor would remotely tolerate massive working-class militia which speak a language of justice and republicanism and raise arms against those states’ sponsors. In turn, it is as natural as the sun rising in the East that the US, the UK, Germany, France, and their Gulf and Arab satraps would converge on support for Israel as the spear’s tip of the assault on the surrounding Arab popular militia. 

And because Israel is the keystone of the regional imperialist order – maintained not by hegemonic consensus but the brutality of Apaches and Merkavas – it is as natural as water falling from clouds that what has developed in the Gaza Strip, as soon as it mobilized politically and militarily, would incite the Western reaction to wipe it from the face of the Earth and impose unimaginable horror to terrify the Palestinian, Arab, and Third World people to never again raise their heads.

The October 7 operation has perhaps overcome the central role of the Israeli state in accumulation on a world scale: ingraining a state of defeat amongst the Arab working classes, as part-and-parcel of the post-Soviet ideological defeat imposed by capital upon labor globally. Deterrence is the form that defeat takes when pushed to the military plane, and Israel openly admits that its deterrence has been shattered.

Seen from this perspective, the risks run by the western capitalist states – their imposition of fascist regulation against freedoms of speech and assembly, their backing for genocide, their desperation to see the Palestinian armed militia wiped from the face of the Earth – is logical, reasonable, and rational in its sociopathy. It is the logic of monopoly attempting to defend itself and the consciousness which bodyguards it with fire from the sky. It is a logic which fills graveyards, and a logic which makes orphans, and it is a logic which might yet meet its end in that crossroads of continents – that salient, and city and their camps and their people."

[transmutationisms]

one thing malm mentions in that interview is the idea of 'overshoot'---the capitalist suggestion that we might be able to exceed a goal limit for global average temperature increase, because we'll bring it back down later through technological intervention. malm is rightly sceptical of that idea; i think it's worth keeping in mind that any kind of techno-utopic thinking that promises a miraculous solution to a politically situated problem, at some nebulous point in the future, is more a justification for the status quo than a serious proposal for change.

like, we don't need to worry about public transit because Sometime In The Future we'll have cars that are eco friendly enough for everyone to own one and drive it constantly. it's fine covid is running rampant, we're sure someone somewhere will biomedical engineer a solution to its long-term health effects. worst case scenario we'll just relocate humanity to mars. no need to worry about the structural problems of capitalist healthcare because personal wearables and home genetic testing will replace the old system any day now. we need more scientists to run for public office. we'll engineer green industry any day now, no need for the global north to reduce any consumption patterns.

these are not serious engagements with social or political or even technological problems as they exist; these proposals are somewhere on the spectrum from 'pipe dream' to 'lie' and they give cover for current situations to remain essentially unchanged whilst tech start-ups collect investor money on promises they'll never deliver. if someone has no fucking idea how a proposed technology could come into existence then believing them that it will is just, deeply credulous at best and head-in-sand at worst. it's theranos logic.