#School news Silicon Valley

[dykeseinfeld]

the AI craze actually makes me feel insane bc when i was younger i used to be so into silicon valley i wanted to be a programmer and followed all the latest new developments with virtual reality and self driving cars and battery technology and every single phone that came out i knew all the specs and all that and now i watch a video about WWDC talking about how image and text generation is the only step forward in iOS that ppl cared about and i feel like. why would you want that. has everyone gone nuts

[santaclaralocalnews]

Notelove is a 501 (c)(3) nonprofit organization with several chapters in the United States. One of them is based in Silicon Valley. The organization’s premise is to provide young people, especially those from a low-income background, free music lessons from volunteer student instructors with a forte in music. Omar Shohoud, a former Homestead High School student, founded Notelove in 2018. Read complete news at svvoice.com.

[timesofocean]

Turmoil in banking industry could be current biggest threat to global economy

New Post has been published on https://www.timesofocean.com/turmoil-in-banking-industry-could-be-current-biggest-threat-to-global-economy/

Turmoil in banking industry could be current biggest threat to global economy

London (The Times Groupe) – High interest rates, particularly in Europe, could pose the most immediate threat to the global economy due to turmoil in the banking sector.

Markets were shaken by the bankruptcy of Silicon Valley Bank (SVB) and Signature Bank in the US last month, as well as Saudi National Bank’s announcement that it would not be increasing its stake in Swiss-based Credit Suisse. interests interests  global economy

UBS, Switzerland’s largest bank, bought Credit Suisse with government assistance for 3 billion Swiss francs ($3.2 billion). times

As countries around the world struggle with a cost of living crisis and central banks have been raising interest rates to lower persistent inflation, the turmoil in the banking industry came at a bad time.

In an interview with Anadolu, Jon Danielsson, the director of the Systemic Risk Centre at the Department of Finance at the London School of Economics, explained that increasing interest rates to combat high inflation causes banks that have bonds and loans to lose value.

Early in March, SVB announced that it had sold its $21 billion bond portfolio at a loss of $1.8 billion. A discount of $16.5 billion was offered to First Citizens Bank for the deposit and loan portfolio of SVB after it was quickly closed by US regulators.

“When central banks raise interest rates, the aim is to slow growth. The fact that bond prices have fallen is part of the normal consequence when you raise interest rates a lot. That is a channel, the transmission of policy rates onto real activity,” Michael Saunders, a senior economic advisor at Oxford Economics and a former member of the Monetary Policy Committee at the Bank of England, told the Turkish state-run news agency Anadolu.

The US banks tightened lending standards before the recent strains in the banking system, reflecting higher interest rates and slower economic growth expectations, and those who failed had poor management.

[st4rfckerz]

Late Night Call | Nerdy!Anakin x Reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: MDNI 18+, masturbating (both), voice kink, praise, nerdy!anakin is a whiny little mess.

summary: Your voice is enough to get Anakin all worked up.

The silence of the night seemed to be swallowing the entire city as Anakin lay sprawled in his bed, staring at the ceiling. With a yawn, Anakin lifted the blocky landline phone off its cradle, the dial tone echoing through the receiver. As he recited the familiar numbers, he couldn't help but feel butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

"Hello?" a gentle voice answered on the other line.

"Hey, I didn't wake you up did I?" Anakin mumbled into the phone, his voice barely above a whisper. The soft sound of rustling sheets and a yawn came from the other end of the line.

There was a pause before you replied. You knew that voice. "No, you caught me at a good time. What's going on?"

"Oh, well, nothing really I just wanted to talk to you," he stammered, trying to mask his nervousness. "I'm putting off writing this paper too actually," Anakin admits almost sounding like he was ashamed of himself. "I don't know, I just don't feel like its good enough." He brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he could feel the small migraine coming in through to temples of his skull.

"Hey, it's alright," your soft voice reassured him from the other side of the line, sending a wave of calm washing over his senses. It was enough to ease his nerves, even if just a little. "You're human, and mistakes happen. You can't expect perfection from yourself all the time."

As the comforting voice continued speaking into the phone, Anakin's breath hitched in his throat. His heartbeat pulsed rapidly in his ears, matching the cadence of the soft whispers. Slowly, the warmth that had started in his chest spread through his limbs, igniting a fire within him. His thoughts raced, his imagination running wild with images of you on the other end of the line, your voice painting vivid pictures in his mind. The soothing voice was a siren song, drawing him in deeper with each passing second.

"What're you writing about anyways?" your voice rings softly through the line. Anakin clenched his eyes shut, his grip on the receiver tightened, as if he could somehow draw strength from the cold plastic. This isn't right, he chided himself, yet he couldn't resist the pull.

He cleared his throat nervously. "Well, it's about a new tech startup in Silicon Valley, something boring like that." Anakin managed to amswer, his voice cracking slightly. His hand subconsciously rubbed against his crotch, and he discreetly adjusted his pants, feeling the bulge growing bigger. He needed to calm down. Fast.

You hum slightly, the topic taking your interest. "That's sounds intriguing, I'd read it. I'm writing about the use of real fur in the fashion industry." Anakin's heart skipped a beat hearing your reply. Real fur? That sounded controversial, edgy, something that would definitely get you a passing grade.

"Oh, really?" he managed to choke out, trying to keep his voice steady. "Do you think it's... you know, ethical?"

"Not at all, there's always faux fur y'know?" you scoff. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. This was school-related, he reminded himself sternly. "Well, I mean, if the demand for real fur decreases, the industry will eventually adapt," he reasoned, trying to sound rational. "Plus, there are ways to ensure animal welfare during the process."

"See! You're so good, it's not even your paper and you're already shooting facts." you praise him innocently. God, he could've came in his boxers if he wasn't being so careful. His head was buzzing with ideas of how he might prolong the conversation so that you could carry on speaking. He just needed to hear you voice.

"Thanks." Anakin laughed nervously, trying to deflect the compliment. "So, um... how's everything else been? Anything exciting happening in your life besides your classes?" He couldn't shake the image of you in that little skirt you decided to wear to class the other day, your tits swaying enticingly in the tight sweater you wore. If it was up to him, he would've fucked you in that classroom in front of everyone. His cock twitched in his pants, growing harder by the minute.

"Not really, my roommate's gonna be out of town for a family thing, so I'll have a whole boring week by myself." you explain.

"Oh, really?" Anakin's eyes widened in delight, his heart racing faster than ever. He shifted in his seat, his cock throbbing against his pajama pants "So, uh, want to meet up sometime? Just you and me?" He forced himself to sound innocent, but his voice cracked slightly, betraying his true intentions.

His hand reached down his pants, feeling the head of his cock peeking out from his underwear. He wrapped his fingers around it, stroking slowly, trying to calm down. He had to focus on their conversation, at least until she agreed to meet up with him. He inadvertently let a whine slip out of his mouth as he swept his fingers across his sensitive tip.

"Anakin? Are you ok?" you ignore his question. Is he? No, he wouldn't. You think to yourself.

"Y-yeah just keep talking, 'm listening." Anakin stammered. His hand continued to stroke his cock unabashedly, increasing the speed slightly. He was so lost in the mind that he didn't even think about the possibility of you being able to hear the quiet slick sounds coming from his end of the line.

He is.

"Ani, I know what you're doing." you state bluntly. His eyes spring open and his hand slows down its movement on his cock.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't help it, y-you can hang up if you want I just-" he blurts out his words but you instantly interrupt him.

"Why would I want to hang up?"

"What?" Anakin couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was sure you'd call him a sick freak and never talk to him again.

"I'm not hanging up," His heart raced wildly, his cock throbbing harder than ever. He couldn't resist your voice. "Does it feel good Ani?"

"Mhm, wish it was you." he admits breathlessly, his fingers tightening around his cock. Anakin's heartbeat pounded in his ears.

"Yeah? Tell me what you're thinking about baby." you chide. You could feel your cunt getting increasingly wetter as you continued to speak to him, it makes you squirm as the heat continues to spread through your body.

"Just you, 's always you," he confessed, his voice cracking with lust. "I wanna touch you and taste you everywhere." His hand picked up speed, and his cock twitched violently in his pants.

"You wanna taste me?" you egg him on. His voice sounded so desperate it was almost pathetic.

"Uh huh, I wanna taste you," Anakin's voice trembled with desire. "Everywhere. Mmph- your lips, your neck, your pussy, everywhere."

He couldn't help but wonder how you would sound, how you would taste, how you would react to his advances. His hand moved faster, his cock throbbing violently in his pants. He needed relief, needed you to stop teasing him.

"Are you gonna be a good boy for me Ani?" you whisper, your voice dropping down an octave.

"I'll be anything you want me to be," Anakin panted, his voice hoarse with desire. "Just please keep talking." He couldn't contain himself anymore, his hand moving faster. "I'll do anything you say, just tell me what you want."

"I wanna hear you beg to cum." you demand as you begin to slowly graze your beating clit over your panties, soon dipping your hand underneath them to be met with your soaking cunt. "You're making me so wet Ani." Your fingers swirled little circles against your tiny bud, causing you to let out a small moan.

Anakin groaned, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Please, I need it so bad." He couldn't stand it anymore, he had to release the pressure building up inside him. "I'll be good I promise," he pleaded, his voice breaking. Anakin's heart stopped for a moment as he heard the wet sounds coming from the other end. "Are you touching yourself?"

"Mhm, feels so good." you moan as you curl your delicate fingers inside your drooling pussy. His cock jerked in his hand and  his mind filled with images of you fingering yourself.

"Ah- fuck." His hand moved faster, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. He bit his lower lip, trying to control himself, but his body betrayed him. "I'm close, so close-" he panted. His hips rocked back and forth in sync with each stroke. and he could feel his orgasm building up, he knew it wouldn't be long now. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his breathing became shallow and erratic.

"Cum for me pretty boy, I wanna hear you." He couldn't hold it back any longer. With one last hard stroke, he came, his balls tightening and his cock spurting a warm stream of cum onto his blankets. He let out a loud groan, his entire body shaking with pleasure.

You can feel your own orgasm creeping up inside you as you vigorously pumped your fingers into your cunt. "Shit Ani 'm cumming!" you squeal. Anakin's eyes widened, a low growl escaping his lips as he heard you ride out your orgasm. His chest heaved, little beads of sweat trickled down his face as he tried to catch his breath.

For a moment, you both sat there, panting and recovering from your orgasms. Then, finally, Anakin found the courage to speak again. "We should... we should probably hang up, huh?" he said hesitantly.

"I guess we could," you chuckle at his awkwardness. "I'm tired now." Anakin smiled weakly, wiping away the remaining streaks of sweat from his forehead. "Yeah, I guess so," he agreed, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm. He looked at his watch, noting the time. "There's no way I'm finishing this paper tonight." He laughs at himself.

"Me neither, I'll do it eventually." you smile at his awkwardness, you always found it cute. "Will I be seeing you in Callahan's tomorrow?" you ask him, hoping he'll be there waiting on you with an empty seat next to his like always.

Anakin chuckled softly, feeling a bit embarrassed but relieved. He quickly cleaned himself up and took in a deep breath. "Yep, I'll be there," he replied, his voice steady once again. "Maybe we could grab coffee afterwards? If you're free, that is."

There was silence on the line before you spoke, but he hoped you'd accept his invitation. He needed to see you again, to be near you.

"That sounds great Anakin." you beam.

He smiled, grateful for the chance to talk to you without all the tension hanging over them. "See you tomorrow, then." he added, his voice friendly and casual.

You said your goodbyes and Anakin ended the call, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over him. As he hung up the phone, he glanced down at his sticky pants, a small smile playing on his lips. He couldn't wait for tomorrow's class.

[flawlessflesh]

cecil is the thistle expy i made for a roleplay group i joined! he's started taking on a life of his own though...

in this rp, the mundane world and the supernatural secretly co-exist. cecil lives with his family in an underground bunker deep within washington state's hoh rainforest. the family is locked away and cecil believes he's protecting them from harm. he spends his days digging a frighteningly complex system of tunnels throughout the forest, convinced that if he can reach the black river deep inside the earth that's haunting his dreams, he'll be able to find his brother del's missing soul.

^ cecil being hounded by a good samaritan (samson's dorothy <3)

i'll share the public bio i wrote for cecil under the cut hehe

Cecil of the Talayi family began appearing in New Portsmouth grocery stores and libraries a few months ago. He isn't occupied by any work or schooling and he disappears for long stretches of time into the Hoh Rainforest.

A receipt Cecil discarded shows the following purchases: a wheelbarrow, five 50-pound bags of concrete mix, gloves, a large pack of 2x4 lumber, steel pipes, an industrial saw, and a bag of sour gummy worms (berry blast flavor).

When he was a young child, Cecil was given a home by the Talayi family. There is no official adoption on record and it is unknown exactly when Cecil was brought in. The family's head at the time, Farhang (فرهنگ), was an Iranian immigrant who made his fortune in Silicon Valley - Cecil believes he owes everything to him. Cecil was homeschooled alongside his younger brother, Del (عادل), who he helped raise. These days he is his brother's primary caretaker.

Farhang Talayi was assassinated by poisoning in 1991 by suspected corporate rivals. The murder trial was long, arduous, and inconclusive. Contemporary newspaper articles and tv footage of the investigation are archived online.

Ten years after the trial, the Talayi family moved from the bustle of Silicon Valley to New Portsmouth. Del bought property deep in the forest and built a private compound ringed by high walls. The Talayis made a few half-hearted excursions into the town's social scene, but they kept to themselves for the most part, homeschooled their children, and now have not been seen in public for many months.

Those initiated in the Secret World will look at Cecil and know he is a Protoplast - a name given to an insular race of humans whose proximity to Flesh diverged them from Homo sapiens thousands of years ago. Not much is known about Protoplasts beyond their natural skill with the Flesh font and their unusual physical characteristics: androgyny, elongated goat-like ears, hair and eyes lacking melanin, and rumors of extended lifespans. They are viewed with awe and wariness - anyone so close to Flesh should be handled carefully, of course. Most Protoplasts seen outside their clans are in the employ of the rich and powerful, a living status symbol. Cecil is no different.

[profeminist]

"In the remote Arctic almost 30 years ago, a group of Inuit middle school students and their teacher invented the Western Hemisphere’s first new number system in more than a century. The “Kaktovik numerals,” named after the Alaskan village where they were created, looked utterly different from decimal system numerals and functioned differently, too. But they were uniquely suited for quick, visual arithmetic using the traditional Inuit oral counting system, and they swiftly spread throughout the region. Now, with support from Silicon Valley, they will soon be available on smartphones and computers—creating a bridge for the Kaktovik numerals to cross into the digital realm.

Today’s numerical world is dominated by the Hindu-Arabic decimal system. This system, adopted by almost every society, is what many people think of as “numbers”—values expressed in a written form using the digits 0 through 9. But meaningful alternatives exist, and they are as varied as the cultures they belong to.

The Alaskan Inuit language, known as Iñupiaq, uses an oral counting system built around the human body. Quantities are first described in groups of five, 10, and 15 and then in sets of 20. The system “is really the count of your hands and the count of your toes,” says Nuluqutaaq."

Read the full piece here: https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/a-number-system-invented-by-inuit-schoolchildren-will-make-its-silicon-valley-debut/

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Zack Beauchamp at Vox:

I met Sen. J.D. Vance (R-OH), Donald Trump’s new choice for vice president, in the summer of 2022. I was covering a conservative conference in Israel, and Vance was the surprise VIP attraction. We chatted for a bit about the connections between right-wing movements across the world, and what American conservatives could learn from foreign peers. He was friendly, thoughtful, and smart — much smarter than the average politician I’ve interviewed. Yet his worldview is fundamentally incompatible with the basic principles of American democracy.

Vance has said that, had he been vice president in 2020, he would have carried out Trump’s scheme for the vice president to overturn the election results. He has fundraised for January 6 rioters. He once called on the Justice Department to open a criminal investigation into a Washington Post columnist who penned a critical piece about Trump. After last week’s assassination attempt on Trump, he attempted to whitewash his radicalism by blaming the shooting on Democrats’ rhetoric about democracy without an iota of evidence. This worldview translates into a very aggressive agenda for a second Trump presidency. In a podcast interview, Vance said that Trump should “fire every single mid-level bureaucrat” in the US government and “replace them with our people.” If the courts attempt to stop this, Vance says, Trump should simply ignore the law. “You stand before the country, like Andrew Jackson did, and say the chief justice has made his ruling, now let him enforce it,” he declares.

The President Jackson quote is likely apocryphal, but the history is real. Vance is referring to an 1832 case, Worcester v. Georgia, in which the Supreme Court ruled that the US government needed to respect Native legal rights to land ownership. Jackson ignored the ruling, and continued a policy of allowing whites to take what belonged to Natives. The end result was the ethnic cleansing of about 60,000 Natives — an event we now call the Trail of Tears. For most Americans, this history is a deep source of shame: an authoritarian president trampling on the rule of law to commit atrocities. For Vance, it is a well of inspiration. J.D. Vance is a man who believes that the current government is so corrupt that radical, even authoritarian steps, are justified in response. He sees himself as the avatar of America’s virtuous people, whose political enemies are interlopers scarcely worthy of respect. He is a man of the law who believes the president is above it.

[...] The Vance of Hillbilly Elegy was very different politically. Back then, he took a conventional conservative line on poverty, describing the working class as beset by a cultural pathology encouraged by federal handouts and the welfare state. 2016 Vance was also an ardent Trump foe. He wrote a New York Times op-ed titled “Mr. Trump Is Unfit For Our Nation’s Highest Office,” and wrote a text to his law school roommate warning that Trump might be “America’s Hitler.” Eight years later, Vance has metamorphosed into something else entirely. Today, he pitches himself as an economic populist and cosponsors legislation with Sen. Elizabeth Warren curtailing pay for failed bankers. In an even more extreme shift, he has morphed into one of Trump’s leading champions in the Senate — backing the former president to the hilt and even, at times, outpacing him in anti-democratic fervor.

[...] And it is clear that Vance is deeply ensconced in the GOP’s growing “national conservative” faction, which pairs an inconsistent economic populism with an authoritarian commitment to crushing liberals in the culture war. Vance has cited Curtis Yarvin, a Silicon Valley monarchist blogger, as the source of his ideas about firing bureaucrats and defying the Supreme Court. His Senate campaign was funded by Vance’s former employer, Peter Thiel, a billionaire who once wrote that “I no longer believe that freedom and democracy are compatible.” He’s a big fan of Patrick Deneen, a Notre Dame professor who recently wrote a book calling for “regime change” in America. Vance spoke at an event for Deneen’s book in Washington, describing himself as a member of the “postliberal right” who sees his job in Congress as taking an “explicitly anti-regime” stance.

Vance is also an open admirer of Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, a right-wing politician who has systematically torn his country’s democracy apart. Vance praised Orbán’s approach to higher education in particular, saying he “made some smart decisions there that we could learn from in the United States.” The policies in question involve using national dollars to impose state controls over universities, turning them into vehicles for disseminating the government line.

Donald Trump's pick of J.D. Vance to be his ticketmate is about doubling down on MAGA authoritarianism and the "postliberal" worldview.

See Also:

The Dean's Report: JD Vance is worse and more dangerous than you know

The Guardian: JD Vance once worried Trump was ‘America’s Hitler’. Now his own authoritarian leanings come into view

[jingwei]

Timeskip Gakushu | Why a Tech CEO?

Gakushu's choice to pursue an MBA at MIT and become the CEO of a tech company in Silicon Valley at 23 made too much sense. With HIS ambition, he would excel in a field where intellect and innovation are highly valued. Silicon Valley would provide him with the platform to showcase his abilities and give him the opportunity to exercise his influence on a much grander scale compared to his timeskip reign in high school.

Gakushu's career track | from blazardragon

Choosing MIT for his MBA was definitely a deliberate decision to associate himself with one of the world's top institutions for technology and business education. Not only would it enhance his knowledge but also establish valuable connections within the tech community, which is something we already know he would prioritize because he puts a lot of importance in networking.

Gakushu thrives in the tech industry because of the dynamic and innovative nature of the field. His intellect would find resonance in an industry where constant learning and adaptation are paramount. The fast-paced evolution of technology demands individuals who can quickly grasp new concepts and lead teams through rapid advancements, just like how we've seen him throughout the progression of Assassination Classroom.

Such an industry involves strategic maneuvering, negotiations, and complex interpersonal dynamics, areas where his manipulative prowess becomes a valuable asset. His inclination to control and dominate complements with the high-stakes nature of tech business, where companies strive to outperform rivals and establish market dominance.

The global and interconnected nature of the tech sector also caters to Gakushu as evidenced by his recruitment of overseas friends during the pole-topping tournament. His choice of career, with its collaborative and diverse environment, allows him to leverage these connections and resources.

Gakushu greeting the foreign exchange students for pole toppling.

Gakushu's moral compass, which consistently clashed with his father's extreme methods, might have found solace in technology's potential for positive impact. Many tech companies focus on innovation for social good, which could provide an avenue for him to contribute positively to society while maintaining that competitive edge that drives him forward.

[hlficlibrary]

✤ Flower Shop Fics ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ Your Name Is Tattooed On My Heart by mcpofife {E, 86k}

Louis is ready to find the love of his life, but first he has to stop falling for the punk rocker next door.

2️⃣ Love's Truest Language by summerwine / @smrwine {E, 48k}

The first part was meant as a joke. He didn't really expect Harry to buy anything. It was just Louis’ way of softening the ‘get the fuck out’ blow.

“Where's your order forms, then?”

“I don't want your flowers.” Louis chided before directing all of his attention to the arrangement in front of him.

Harry laughed under his breath as he stood to his full height, “Who said anything about them being for you, love?”

3️⃣ A Hungry Heart by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom {E, 27k}

Harry Styles, florist and Great British Bake Off contestant, loves many things. He loves his flower shop, he loves baking, and there’s also that little crush he has on pop star Louis Tomlinson.

But when Louis arrives on set as the surprise guest judge, Harry’s worlds collide. Throw in a cup of cuteness, a teaspoon of teasing, and a pinch of pining, and there’s all the ingredients for an epic love story, or absolute chaos.

Or the one where the Bake Off tent has never been so hot, and it’s got nothing to do with what’s in the ovens.

4️⃣ time slows down whenever you're around by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze {E, 14k}

“Why did you two break up again?”

Harry turned to face Zayn again. “We had a fight sometime after we graduated from 8th grade. It was the summer before high school would start and it was a big blow out. I don’t even remember what it was about to tell you the truth. After that we lost touch. We came to high school and he got a girlfriend, joined the footie team. I found new friends and new interests.” Harry paused, while he grabbed the broom to pick up some stray petals and leaves. “Honestly, if it weren’t for you and Liam getting together, who knows if the two of us would have ever patched up.”

“I don’t know,” Zayn shrugged. “You were best friends and I feel like it was meant to be.”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Best friends…that’s it. That’s all it was meant to be.”

or Louis plays "soccer" and falls for the wrong boy and Harry works in a flower shop and falls for Louis — again.

5️⃣ Far Afield by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {T, 11k}

Harry Styles is a witch who owns the best flower shop in Manchester. Lottie Tomlinson is planning her wedding, and brings her brother along to her first appointment. Both men have been having a bad day and sparks fly.

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 Sakura Sunset by MsHydeStylinson / @mizzhydes {E, 16k}

Harry and Louis have a tradition. Every spring they stand below hundreds of dazzling cherry blossom trees in Kew Garden, and year after year they come back to walk amongst the trees and experience that love over again.

This year everything changes. Louis is offered a once in a lifetime opportunity in Silicon Valley, California.

Only after Louis has left does Harry realise he made the biggest mistake of his life breaking up with Louis, and he has to live with the consequences of his actions.

Four years later, Harry discovers that Louis has returned to London, and in an effort to find the closure he desperately needs, he must tell Louis the truth behind their break up so he can move on with his life.

💎 To Plant New Seeds and Watch Them Grow by graceling_in_a_suit {T, 10k}

Harry's Hearty Herbs sits in Diagon Alley, filled to the brim with flowers and potion ingredients and the care of its owner. Louis Tomlinson also sits in Diagon Alley, a former Slytherin golden-boy descended from wizarding nobility and now running his very own potion stand. 70s Wizarding Britain isn't the safest place for love between a half-blood and a pureblood to blossom, yet blossom it does.

💎 I Kinda Need A Hero (Is It You) by @fallinglikethis {NR, 5k}

Louis is a barista who’s had his heart broken. Harry is the boy who wants to put the pieces back together.

💎 Monday by @nouies {NR, 2k}

A flower shop AU featuring a one-sided feud, puns, and a missing cat.

💎 Are You Thorny, Baby? by @homosociallyyours {NR, 2k}

When Louis stops in to buy flowers for Lottie’s birthday, he thinks he’s just stumbled upon a hip flower shop. Meeting Harry is just a bonus.

[exeggcute]

interesting links roundup #4

reading

A language of beautiful impurity

The Boeing Nosedive

California’s $20 Fast Food Minimum Wage Sees No Job Loss, Slight Price Hikes

Don’t build your castle in other people’s kingdoms

Inside the $621 Million Legal Battle for the ‘Soul of the Internet’

My Mother’s Envy Will Outlive Us Both

On 17th century "cocaine"

Silicon Valley, the New Lobbying Monster

Stunning photos of a vast e-waste dumping ground — and those who make a living off it

The Time I Built an ROV to Solve Missing Person Cases

Warren Hern, America’s Abortion Doctor

What Google’s U-Turn on Third-Party Cookies Means for Chrome Privacy

Where Did You Go, Ms. Pac-Man?

tools/reference

The Anglish Times

Falling Fruit

Grad school calculator

other

Abandoned mines cover the West

Bop Spotter

Wikipedia: Leper colony money

[darkeagleruins]

Pay very close attention to the faces at the Kamala Harris rallies.

Because you normally NEVER see their faces.

They are usually hiding behind masks.

These images are how they normally look.

For those reading this that are not yet caught up, antifa works for the Democrats. They are the Marxists soldiers and enforcers.

Paid protestors, shit stirrers and violent anarchists for hire.

They usually come with an optional violence rider in their contract.

GPS data from the summer of love riots has proven totally invaluable and the pattern recognition alone has been mind blowing.

What is most interesting is when we followed them to their vehicles, after protesting/rioting, the vehicles they drove and many times parked a 20 minute Uber/Lift ride away, looked like the Beverly Hills High School student parking. with BMWs, Mercedes, Audis, Range Rovers, Porsches, Corvettes, even Bentleys and Rolls Royces.

Most come from very wealthy families. They are the children and young adults of Hollywood, Silicon Valley and Wall Street elites.

We haven’t seen this many of the rioters (we’ve been tracking for years, many have gotten new devices not realizing if just one photo with meta data, and other proprietary data, gets transferred to the new device, we got you again) together as a group, since the most recent Hamas and Pro-Palestine takeover of colleges and universities.

As a side note, there are also a couple hundred of the same bad actors in the U.S. Capital today.

Between now and the election, their job will be to disrupt the elections. They may even attack rally goers.

Chaos.

Fear.

If they do their job, martial law will be declared before the election.

[santaclaralocalnews]

A parent at Laurelwood Elementary School has filed charges of assault after a confrontation with a group of individuals handing out flyers outside of the school. It happened on Friday, Aug. 18. According to the Santa Clara Police Department (SCPD), the group Informed Parents of Silicon Valley (IPSV) was handing flyers out to parents as they walked their children to class. The IPSV members were standing on a public sidewalk on Teal Drive. For complete news visit svvoice.com.

[simply-ivanka]

Biden Gets the Chicago Treatment

Barack Obama, an old-fashioned ward boss, orchestrates the president’s removal.

By Rod R. Blagojevich

Wall Street Journal

Democracy took a devastating hit on Sunday when President Biden withdrew from the presidential race. Along the way, he got it wrong. It isn’t Donald Trump who is an existential threat to our democracy. It’s Barack Obama.

In the old-school way of Chicago backroom politics, Mr. Obama was the conductor of the band that successfully orchestrated the removal of the presidential candidate chosen by more than 14 million Democratic primary voters—to be replaced by someone he and the party bosses choose instead. It’s classic ward-boss tactics.

I’ve known Mr. Obama since 1995. We both grew up in Chicago politics. We understand how it works—with the bosses over the people. Mr. Obama learned the lessons well. And what he just did to Mr. Biden is what political bosses have been doing in Chicago since the 1871 fire—selections masquerading as elections.

Mr. Obama and I know this kind of Chicago politics better than anyone. We both rose up in it, and I was brought to ruin by it when the Illinois Legislature impeached and removed me from the governor’s office in 2009 for conversations initiated by Mr. Obama himself. A common element in my case and now Mr. Biden’s is Mr. Obama’s involvement. He’s the central figure who played a behind-the-scenes role in both stories.

While today’s Democratic bosses may look different from the old-time cigar-chomping guy with a pinky ring, they operate the same way: in the shadows of the backroom. Mr. Obama, Nancy Pelosi and the rich donors—the Hollywood and Silicon Valley elites—are the new bosses of today’s Democratic Party. They call the shots. The voters, most of them working people, are there to be lied to, manipulated and controlled.

All along, Mr. Biden and the Democratic politicians have been claiming that this year’s presidential race is about “saving democracy.” They are the biggest hypocrites in American political history.

The party that says it is running to save democracy has already deployed the criminal-justice system against the leading candidate of the opposition party. And now they have successfully maneuvered to dump their duly elected candidate for president.

Mr. Biden’s withdrawal proves something even more sinister. They’ve been lying to us the whole time. The president’s unfitness to run for re-election today didn’t just happen. The Democrats have been covering it up for a long time.

They hid him in the basement when he ran for president in 2020, and they got away with it because of the pandemic. But when Mr. Biden’s cognitive issues were exposed during June’s presidential debate, Mr. Obama and the Democratic bosses could no longer hide his condition. The jig was up, and Joe had to go.

The Democratic National Convention in Chicago next month will provide the perfect backdrop and place for Mr. Obama to finish the job and choose his candidate, not the voters’ candidate. Democracy, no. Chicago ward-boss politics, yes.

Mr. Blagojevich, a Democrat, served as governor of Illinois, 2003-09.

[alarici]

State of decay

Rated T, 950 words

-

In the years since the Kira case, with Near at the helm, and L and Watari long since buried in the plot beside the west wing, what was once called The Wammy’s House decays.

It takes seven years to fully dismantle the program. The youngest children need to find foster homes or new families or other, carefully vetted, well-funded programs to matriculate into. The older children are graduated and placed in the best universities around the world—set to become the everyday successes of tomorrow. Tsinghua, Juilliard, Cairo, LSE, UCLA, Tohoku, ETH Zurich, Oxford. The residual funds are allocated appropriately to make sure that everyone is well taken care of. Study funds and stipends, merit grants and insurance.

Personally, Near sees to the edge cases. Kids who, according to the headmasters and the instructors, never lived up to the promise of their aptitude testing—the weak, the attention deficit, the headcases. He speaks to each one—Do you want to live alone? Do you want to learn a skill and work? Do you want to go back to where they found you? What are your medical needs.

It’s dispassionate work that he takes on in his limited spare time. The dismantling of the program was not necessarily his idea, but he saw it to the end.

By 2024, L Lawliet has been dead for almost two decades. Enough time for a child to grow and have a child of their own. Near has no children—will never and can never—and finds this fact amusing.

At exactly 13:23 GMT on 21 October, 2024, Near celebrates a homecoming of sorts.

—

The grounds have been left to wither. The estate is unsellable—or, nobody wants to bother selling it to a Silicon valley expat or a London financier’s portfolio. After all, it was a school. Renovations would be required.

When Near is driven into town and left there—”I’ll get there from here, thank you,”—he overhears, in a quiet cafe, that the children think the mansion on the hill is haunted. “Halloween” is an American holiday that is not celebrated in England. The evening is foggy and limpid. The sky threatens an afternoon rain.

He arrives at the wrought iron gates at 15:13. He knows there is nothing for him, here. But he’s already been given this time to pay his respects. A holiday of sorts. Never in the past twenty years has he kneeled before graves. He expects he won’t today, either. There is nobody here to pay respects to. Mello is buried in an unmarked plot in a quiet district of Tokyo. The stake on the eastern edge of the property in Winchester—In Memoriam, Mihael Keehl—is growing moss. Near stops by this landmark, first. Many colleagues and coworkers, commanding officers and cadets, have died since Mello. Near has not kept track of many of their names.

Mello’s memorial has not been cared for. They stopped sending groundskeepers to the property in 2019. Near carries a book in one hand, his plastic cane in the other. He stares at the spike, leans on the arm brace, and considers the most respectful acknowledgment of this memorial. This isn’t what he came here to do. Mihael Keehl—no, Mello—has been dead for more than a decade. In that time, Near has solved more than five hundred cases. A-Kira. The Hong Kong murders. The Dubai trafficking ring. A few stray Death Notes.

In the years elapsed, the loss has simmered. Like soup, which Near has seen others make (his current boyfriend is fond of cutting the mirepoix into centimeter by centimeter cubes) the thought of Mello is turbid and wafts around him constantly. However, there is no room for the what if. There is only the course the universe bent, that day.

Near, in his own way, has paid his respect. Said his thank yous, if he owes any thanks. He bows, as far as he can manage, to the spiritless grave. He does not kneel.

In Tokyo, Mello’s bones are likely rusting, rotting in the temperate soil. Were he buried here, at 51�� latitude, he may still have his skin, in death. But this is unimportant. He would not wish to be buried here.

Near bows, and says two prayers for the dead. He knows a Latin version as well as a Hebrew. To this day, he does not know if Mello died religious—died believing in any gods beyond those he had met and been scorned by.

“Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis.”

“יִתְגַּדַּל וְיִתְקַדַּשׁ שְׁמֵהּ רַבָּא.”

He adds a hymn Mello might have sung for his parents in the dialect he most likely spoke before his life as a successor began.

“Святой Юмо, Святой Куатле, Святой Колыдымо, мемнам серлаге.”

Near has been told not to pass judgment on the irrationality of faith, so he has learned the hymns. The grass grows tall around Mello’s stake.

One year, Near had gotten angry about it. Back when he was twenty one or twenty two—inconsequential—and awake for forty hours, Near had raged at a silent room over it, and never again. And the anger was not about the death, nor about Near’s inheritance, his duty. Not Mello’s mistakes nor his sacrifice. Likely, looking back with the hindsight and wisdom of a man ten years older, Near images he experienced as much grief as he was capable of, that night. There was no grave to stand over, and there was no body, in the small room in Cape Canaveral when Near was twenty one. No surviving images of him. No letters nor notebooks. The bout of rage, insanity, grief (he cautions to call it) was triggered by a smell (something sweet burning), of all things. And had subsided with the yellow dawn.

The frustration was likely at being left alone. Of his own inefficacy in his first trial, and the acknowledgement that a man like Mello had deserved to live to see more days. Had deserved better than a pine wood stake on a lonely corner of the grounds of the school where he was raised and an unmarked plot in Adachi City, Tokyo.

Next, Near walks slowly towards the house itself. A jackrabbit sprints across the lawn in front of him. A hawk circles to the north. 

[evanfms]

From Halloween-born nerd to billionaire playboy, Evan Marquez traded coding marathons for champagne toasts, transforming his streaming platform vision into the empire known today as Netflix.

[  nicholas alexander chavez,  cis man,  he/him,  muse 13,  n/a  ] welcome  to  excesstv,  EVAN  JAY  MARQUEZ  —  or  should  i  say  the  troublemaker?  …  a  quick  google  search  tells  me  you’re  a  TWENTY SIX   year  old  STREAMING PLATFORM FOUNDER who’s worth $5B.  you've  called  avalon  home  for  FOUR  YEARS,  however  something  tells  me  there’s  more  to  you  than  a  flashy  resume  and  penthouse  35A  on  your  door  ?  it  seems  you’ve  managed  to  earn  a  reputation  around  the   city   for  being  MANIPULATIVE,  yet,  upon  further  investigation  it  seems  you're  also  quite  CHARMING.  but  hey,  thats  the  kind  of  mix  that  keeps  people  guessing.  i'm  sure  as  a  SCORPIO  you're  used  to  people  commenting  on  your  CUSTOM  ROLEX  / MUSKY, AND CLEAN-SCENTED NICHE PERFUME LINGERING IN THE AIR, CUSTOM COCKTAIL GLASSES AND HIGH-END BARWARE GLEAMING ON THE BAR, A SPACIOUS GARAGE FILLED WITH AN ARRAY OF CARS  but  still  we  can't  wait  to  watch  you  flourish  (  or  fail  )  these  next  few  weeks  … 

Full Name: Evan Jay Marquez Date of Birth: October 31st, 1998 Age: 26 Zodiac Sign: Scorpio Gender: Cis Male (He/Him) Height: 6'2 (187 cm) Eyes: Dark Brown Hair: Dark Brown Parents: Mother: Elena Smith, elementary school teacher Father: Carlos Marquez, auto mechanic Net Worth: $5 Billion Hometown: Born and raised in a small town in Arizona Current Residence: Avalon, New York City – Penthouse 35A Profession: Founder and CEO of a successful streaming platform

Evan Jay Marquez was born on a chilly Halloween night in 1997, in a small, unassuming town in Arizona. The eldest of three siblings, he grew up in a modest household where his mother, Elena, an elementary school teacher, and his father, Carlos, an auto mechanic, worked multiple jobs to make ends meet. From a young age, his parents instilled in him the importance of resilience and dedication, even when money was tight. Though life wasn’t easy, they fostered his interest in technology and education, sparking a passion for coding and innovation that would ultimately define his life.

In high school, Evan was the classic underdog—shy, bookish, and a little awkward. His days revolved around his computer, video games, and sci-fi novels. Although he excelled in academics, his social life was almost non-existent, and his quiet demeanor often made him a target for teasing. Popular girls overlooked him entirely, and while he had a few close friends, his true solace was in the digital world, where he felt both free and in control.

College marked a turning point. Accepted into a prestigious university in Silicon Valley through a scholarship, Evan found himself surrounded by ambitious and innovative minds. This culture of possibility inspired him to reinvent himself, ditching his old, nerdy image for a more confident version. He began working out, refining his style, and building the foundations of a streaming platform now recognized worldwide as Netflix. In his sophomore year, after countless late nights and failed attempts, the platform finally took off, gaining rapid traction and transforming him into a tech sensation almost overnight. As his company soared in popularity, so did his confidence—and his bank account.

This glow-up brought a whole new world of attention, especially from women. The once-overlooked nerd now sported a chiseled physique, a polished style, and a billionaire's lifestyle. Yet, this attention came with a price: Evan never truly knew if people were drawn to him or to his wealth. Despite his playful, flirty demeanor and the charm he used to keep people at arm's length, he wrestled with a quiet insecurity, hesitant to trust anyone fully.

His relationship with his family remained rooted in love, though success created an undeniable strain. His parents were proud yet struggled to relate to his opulent new world of luxury and fame. Whenever he visited home, he showered them with gifts and nostalgic memories, but a lingering disconnect persisted, widening with each return to his lavish penthouse in New York.

Now, living in a sleek penthouse in the heart of NYC, Evan’s personality is as captivating as his billionaire lifestyle. Playful and charming, he’s the type who lights up a room effortlessly, wielding his charisma with an edge of mischief that makes him irresistible yet unpredictable. Known as a master flirt and unapologetic troublemaker, he has a magnetic pull that draws people in while keeping them guessing. Beneath his polished exterior, though, lies a more complex, manipulative side—someone who knows exactly how to twist situations to his advantage and enjoys the thrill of control. For Evan, relationships are a game he plays with skill and finesse, savoring the chase but always maintaining his distance, guarding the parts of himself he isn’t ready to reveal.

[onthegreatsea]

idk man that income poll has rly fucked with me because it feels like suddenly all the dumbass shit i've seen on this site over the years makes so much more sense.

the majority of you arent poor. most of you didnt grow up around poverty. no wonder you're all so judgemental about criminals, and drug addicts and sex work and care way too much about fucking shoplifting and have the dumbest opinions on lgbt crap and place so much morality on shipping and stupid fandom bullshit and- fuck me. i didnt even think i was poor growing up because i always knew people who had it so much worse. i had a roof over my head and regular food and maybe on a birthday i'd get something nice.

i wasnt living in a place so small my room could barely fit a single bed. i wasnt homeless. i wasnt going to sleep hungry. i wasnt living right next to constant police raids and drug deals and stabbings. i never had to turn to sex work, i never became an alcholic to deal with the stress, i didnt have a kid at 15 years old, it wasnt my friend who died at 16 from an overdose, it wasnt my friends forcing me to jack cars and traffic drugs and- ... i was incredibly lucky when i was 13 because i got into a private school on a scholarship. that was the first time i actually felt poor. everyone had new phones and they went on holidays and had all this expensive makeup and clothes (that fit!)... they had all this wealth and they just took it for granted. and in their complete ignorance judged me for not being able to keep up. 'just get your parents to buy you a new one' 'why arent you coming on the school trip, its only £200' 'stop borrowing stationary, just get your own' ...some years later i decided to look up kids i knew on facebook. everyone from the state schools i went to, all the kids i knew who grew up poor... they were still poor. some had served time. most of the girls had kids as teens. all of them smoked. some were addicts. if they werent a single mother they were working in a grocery store or mc donalds. but the kids from the private school? they were lawyers and doctors and politicians. they owned big houses and their own companies or worked in silicon valley or whatever. one kid who bullied me ended up as the head of the immigration office. and none of kids from that private school were smarter or wiser. they werent more talented or harder working. and they sure as fuck werent nicer, better people; they were just fucking rich.

sorry "middle class" but the trajectory of their lives was basically decided before they were born. thats what generational wealth is. not being in poverty is such an absurdly privileged position and the fact that so many people on this site would rather channel their guilt into denial than recognising how fucking lucky they are is driving me insane