#academic purposes program

[singwhenyoucantspeak]

okay but in an academic setting this is still probably considered self plagiarism and is still against academic integrity policies. of course if you posted the art to your website AFTER submitting it for class that would be fine, but pulling something you previously wrote/created to submit for an assigment instead of doing the assignment fresh for that specific class is actually still considered plagiarism. Obviously it is a clearer issue if you have already submitted it to a different class and are re-using it. but if it is previously published somewhere, like your website, you are going to get into trouble. For the same reason, dont submit a blog post you wrote that kind of works for a class essay prompt. any plagiarism software will find the blog post and flag that and it will still be considered plagiarism. If you really want to engage with something you already made, the most you can do is cite yourself, but in terms of academic integrity policies you are supposed to be creating something completely new for all assignments.

[astrocafecoffee]

💫Your future spouse's career based on your Juno persona chart 💫

✨ For entertainment purposes only. Enjoy.✨

🌜what to check?

- just check your Industria (389) asteroid in your Juno persona chart.Find out in which house it falls in!!

Why this asteroid?

- Juno persona chart tells about your future spouse and Industria(389) asteroid is a long term career related asteroid. So this asteroid in your juno persona chart can give a insight about your future spouse's career.

🌜SOME SHORT TERMS I USED HERE :

- FS = FUTURE SPOUSE

-JPC = JUNO PERSONA CHART

Leshh go!

🌆 Industria in 1st house of JPC : 1st house represent one's identity, personality and how they present themselves to the world.This asteroid in 1st house suggests that their career may be tied to their personal identity and innovative spirit. Now some possible career of your fs-

*Entrepreneurial scientist - they may excel in entrepreneurial pursuits within the scientific community. They may innovate new technologies, products that have a significant impact in their field.

* Industry leader - they maybe known for their innovative idea and proactive attitude to their work. They can easily be a leader of their respective industry.

* visionary consultant - they may excel in their field as a respectful advisor, who offers solutions to businesses or individuals seeking guidance.

* Creative director- career in creative leadership such as creative director in advising, film, fashion, or design.

* makeup artist

* Model

* engeneering

* design/ work in media.

🌆 Industria in 2nd house of JPC : Their career may be closely related to their values resources, managing or utilising assets and their sense of stability. Some possible career of your fs -

* wealth management specialist - they helps individuals or organizations maximize their financial resources and investments through innovative and strategic approach.

* Creative Financial analyst - specialised in creative or innovative analysis methods.

* Financial innovator- innovates new financial products, services or strategies.

* asset manager

* Entrepreneurial investor

* can sing well

* accountant

🌆 Industria in 3rd house of JPC : 3rd house represents one's communication style, mental persuits, and interaction within immediate environment. When this asteroid in your 3rd house this can indicate that your fs may excel in the career of innovative communication methods or technologies. Some possible career of your fs -

* They may into journalism, media, broadcasting, or public relations where someone uses their creative ideas.

* technology writer/ blogger: their career path may involve writing / blogging about technologies or industry trends or sharing their ideas with wide audience.

* Workshop/ educational outreach programs.

* small business owner

* excel in troubleshooting skills, problem solving abilities, explaining complex concepts in simple terms.

🌆 Industria in 4th house of JPC : their career tied to their home , family roots, and emotional well-being.some possible career of your fs -

* career in real estate - specialize in designing sustainable, eco friendly, or technologically advanced buildings.

* e- commerce, consulting, freelance work.

* Family councillor or therapist - they may help individuals and families navigate challenges, fostering harmony and growth within te hone environment.

* interior designer

* Home renovation specialist

* Family owned business owner.

* childcare provider

🌆 Industria in 5th house of JPC : 5th house is associated with creativity,joy, children and hobbies. It governs one's individual approach to work, self expression and personal fulfillment. So your fs career strongly related to this area of life. Possible careers -

* creative artist/ entertainer - Excels in creative profession like music , theater , film, writing etc.

* event planer- organizing wedding, festivals or social gathering.

* teacher/ coach - inspiring or guiding others in academic subject/ sports.

* youth councillor - natural affinity to work with young people and helping them to discover their talents.

* atrs nd crafts business owner.

* fitness instructor

* dance teacher

* entertainment industry professional.

🌆 Industria in 6th house of JPC : 6th house is associated with employment, daily task, health and service to others. So possible career of your fs -

* health care professionals - career related to healthcare, nursing, doctor, medicine, and pharmacy.

* nutritionist/ dietician - helping others to improve their dietary habits , manage health condition.

* fitness trainer/ coach - motivates others to adopt healthy lifestyle.

* administrative professional - may indicate talent for efficiency, attention to detail, making career in administrative or office management appealing.

* environmental scientist

* social worker

* reasearch assistant

🌆 Industria in 7th house of JPC : 7th house is related to marriage, buisness partnership, legal matters, and one-on-one interactions. Possible career domains of your fs-

*legal professional - career related as mediators, legal consultant, specialization in areas such as contrat law , family law or dispute resolution.

* business consultant - expertise in the area of strategy, negotiation, and partnership development.

* marriage and family therapist - helping couples navigate challenges, improve communication and strengthen their bonds through therapy or councilling sessions.

* international business manager

* foreign affair specialist

* event coordinator

*public relation specialist

* human resources manager

🌆 Industria in 8th house of JPC : 8th house is associated with themes such as mysteries, psychology, healing, emotional connection. So possible careers of your fs -

* psychologist/ psychotherapist - your fs may excel in trauma therapy, helping others to navigate profound emotional experiences , uncover hidden truth.

* forensic investigator/ crime analyst- they may be focused on uncovering hidden truths and solving mysteries.

*massage therapist - specialize in modalities such as deep tissue massage, craniosacral therapy or helping clients release emotional/ physical tension through healing.

* reasearch scientist - may excel in fields such as psychology, quantum physics, or consciousness studies.

* occultist - astrologer, tarot reader, or spiritual councillors.

* healer/ energy worker

* heal others through their respective fields. Can be. Singer too .

🌆 Industria in 9th house of JPC: 9th house is associated with themes such as higher learning, expansion of horizons , seeking truth, broadening one's perspective through travel/ exploration. Possible careers of your fs -

* international relations specialist - involve promoting international cooperation, resolving conflicts, forming mutual understanding between nations and cultures.

* spiritual teacher/ guru- your fs may pursue careers as spiritual teachers, gurus, mentors, guiding others on their spiritual journey.

* tour guide

* philosopher

* religious leader - may pursue careers as priests, ministers, guiding and supporting communities in matters of faith and spiritual growth.

* global NGO worker

* foreign language teacher

🌆 Industria in 10th house of JPC: 10th house is associated with themes such as career aspirations, social status, reputation, and professional achievements. This asteroid influences the individual's approach to career, public image, authority, ambition. So possible careers of your fs -

* media personality/ influencer - television hosts , journalist, bloggers, social media influencer , reaching a wide audience.

* creative director/ artist - artist, designer, performers.

* CEO

* startup founder, business owner, or self employed professionals.

* legal professional/ lawyer

* educational administrator

🌆 Industria in 11th house of JPC: when your industria asteroid in this house your fs may excel in the career of social network, group affiliation, humanitarian causes, collaboration etc. So possible careers of your fs -

* social entrepreneur - creates innovative solutions to adress social challenges.

* Tech entrepreneur, start-up founder.

* content creator - social media influencers, bloggers, using their platforms to inspire/ educate peoples.

* environment activist

* advocate

* community organizer

* designing educational platforms , or promoting digital literacy.

🌆 Industria in 12th house of JPC: 12th house is often associated with hidden strengths, spirituality, and working behind the scenes. So possible careers of your fs -

* they might work in reserch and development, data analysis or logistical planning behind the scenes.

* astro- spiritual researcher

* music industry

* astrologer

*song writer.

* mystical or spiritual advisor.

* environmental conservationist.

⚡ Note : these are only some possibilities of careers of your fs. And guys check the degrees to , it's like cheery on top 💌

🌜Don't forget to check my other observations too 👀

That's it guys , see you soon 💝

- piko 💖

[cheeses-degree]

Hey why is the concept of college and higher education so stressful

[diamond-rozie]

scene 2 extended: three day streak

inspired by this comment @krzyz2000:

-------

Bruce was glad to see that they had a full table for dinner tonight. It was a cherry on top to the past 3 days of minimal in-fighting between the array of siblings. And even now Bruce listened to the calm (for them) chatter over the table, letting himself pass between the multiple conversations as he ate his food.

"Father." Damian called, a troublesome glint in his eyes. It spelt trouble, or course, but it almost made Damian seem his age so Bruce decided to let it play out.

"What is it Damian?" Bruce prompted, setting down his fork and knife to listen to his youngest son. The chatter at the table simmered as well, curious at what he would say.

"I spoke with Daniel earlier," They exchanged numbers? Bruce supposed that made sense if either of them would need to contact the other. Damian turned his head slightly so now he was facing Tim instead of Bruce, but he only saw understanding harrowingly befall his features mere seconds before Damian continued. "And he was quite please to hear that he placed first in his grade."

Oh no.

Bruce tried to do damage control, but it was already too late.

"The grade he shares with our very own Timothy." Damian let a graceful hand point at the seething child.

Silence fell on the table at Tim's sharp inhale before he angrily lunged across the table at Damian.

"But Tim always places first. It's the way on the universe." Dick commented, surprised.

"Well," Damian started again, sounding extremely calm for having multiple weapons targeted at him. "There is a saying. Second place winner is a first place loser." For the first time since Damian arrived at the Manor, Bruce wished he would stop talking.

"Young Masters, do not spill blood on the kitchen counter." Alfred chastised, calmly from the corner, expertly dodging a stray attack.

Bruce sighed, there went their three day streak.

original prompt: Gotham Academy's Mentorship Program

scene 1

table of contents

------------

Scene 2: Tim’s Arch Nemesis 

“Have a good day at school Masters Tim, Thomas, and Damian.” Alfred wished, as they all got out of the car. 

“Later, Alfred.” Duke waved as the car left the drop off zone.

The three of them walked together until Tim remembered the conversation from Bruce’s study. He peered over his shoulder at Damian who was trying to act nonchalant as he ditched the principal's office. Tim turned and stopped right in front of Damian ``Ohoho, and where do you think you’re going Damian?” Sneaky little plans for a sneaky little kid, huh.

“Tsk.” He rolled his eyes at being caught 

Tim smirked at him, the words hillbilly civilians echoing in his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the principal’s office?” 

“I was just on my way.” Damian said, trying to seem unbothered as he walked away. 

“Y’know one of these days he’s gonna snap and finally murder you.” Duke mused next to him, before they split into their separate hallways. 

“Better people than him have tried.” They shared a small laugh. Finding his usual seat in homeroom, Tim scrolled through his phone until class started. 

At the bell Ms. Kross stepped to the teacher’s podium to start the daily announcements. “Hello class, happy Wednesday.” She smiled at them, “You’re all chipper as usual,” she commented humorously to herself at the silent audience. “Well today is the day I’m sure all of you have been waiting anxiously for. Before I announce everyone’s placements after the midterms, I just want to remind you all that grades only matter so much in the grand scheme of things, and if you did not score as well as you would’ve liked, there's still time to do better.” Ms. Kross gave them the yearly pep talk, as the system booted. 

Tim had been attending Gotham Academy since the first grade, and he was familiar with the ins and outs of the system now, as opposed to the many students that often filtered in and out of the Academy. Gotham Academy is one of the best schools on this side of the coast and many affluent families would send their kids here. So naturally the Academy was incredibly competitive and so much as one point could move you from 5th place to 50th. 

The competitive atmosphere of Gotham Academy had never been too hard of a burden on Tim’s shoulder. Since grade 3 Tim has easily been placed first in his grade without so much as a sweat, no matter the amount of Robin, or Red Robin responsibilities on his shoulders. Knowing this year would be no different, Tim let his chair lean back leisurely as his other classmates sat forward in anticipation. 

“With no further ado, this year’s first place as for now is Daniel Fenton.” Yup, just like every other- Wait. 

“What?” Tim asked, the front two legs of his chair hitting the floor hard. Tim looked at the screen in disbelief, only to have his suspicions confirmed. 

“Mr. Drake, is there a problem?” Mr. Kross asked, surprised. 

“Are you sure this is right?” Tim asked incredulously pointing an accusing finger at the screen, there's no way that he- Timothy Drake - placed second?

“Yes, Mr. Drake, I assure you this sheet has been double, triple, even quadruple checked. There are no errors.” Ms. Kross smiled exasperatedly. 

Ms. Kross continued down the list of names in the class, announcing their places but Tim wasn’t paying attention. Tim glared at the spreadsheet at the front of the class, waiting for it to correct itself. But no changes were made. The name placed at the top of the list had been burned into Tim’s skull. 

Who the fuck is Daniel James Fenton? 

----

Bonus:

Bruce waited his turn in the pick up line, ready to see his kids' surprise when they found out that he came to pick them up instead of Alfred. When it was finally his turn to pull up to the curb he smiled happily as Tim, Damian and Duke entered the car. 

“Surprise.” Bruce smiled at them.

“Oh, Bruce. Alfred didn’t come today?” Duke asked with a smile. 

“Nope!” He said driving into the street. “Since it’s just us today, how about we go grab ice cream?” Bruce offered, looking at his passengers in the rearview mirror. 

“Ooh ice cream after school!” Duke cheered. 

“I could appreciate some ice cream.” Damian nodded from his seat. 

“Oh how did meeting Daniel go today, Damian?” Bruce remembered. 

“It was fine. Daniel is not entirely despicable.” Bruce blinked in surprise, Damian seemed to have taken a great liking to the kid if he was already calling him by his first name, especially on day one. “Not entirely despicable” and “it was fine” in Damian-speak usually meant that he had had a phenomenal time. 

“That’s great, buddy.” Bruce turned to tell him when he stopped at a red light. “Duke, how was your Chemistry Test?” 

“It went okay, I think. We’ll just have to wait till the results come out, I guess.” Duke shrugged. 

Bruce nodded at the information. He was doing a good job. Engage, Assess, Appreciate. That’s what Dick had said. 

Tim. There was something today, he had mentioned it offhandedly. What was it? Right! The placement release. 

“Tim, how did your-”

“Shut up.” Tim seethed from the back seat. Bruce saw the irritation radiating off of him and decided that today, nor any day, would he be ready to deal with that.

“Ok.”

[sugarverse]

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

thirdyear!izuku x bitchy!black reader

synopsis: Izuku and you are forced to work together for a midterm project, and you're bent on not helping the nerd finish it.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: words like slut, cumdump are used to be degrading but nothing too far out oc, a petty slap on the cheek and thats about it? could possibly also tag as dubcon just in case, enjoy!

Izuku has known you since a little before joining uni. He was invited to move in early under the honors program along with Katsuki. Other groups who were also invited to join early were fall athletes, greek sororities and fraternities, and people in majors that take longer than 8 years to finish. As if an academic rival, hotheaded, bully from younger years wasn't enough.. you came along.

You had always had a class or two with him. Whether it be preliminary classes or your third year science credit. He doesn’t know why you don't like him, always calling him names just loud enough for him to hear or purposely shutting the door on him in pouring rain.. but the day he saw you at the buffet talking and laughing with Katsuki? His life was over. You made it hell. He thought you were so pretty when he first saw you.. but you were just such. a bitch.

Katsuki didn't have the same timed honors classes but slept in the same building. If he really wanted to avoid him, he could go to the library or study in one of the cafes. Then again there was the rec center.. or he could stay with a friend, even. But you. He couldn’t avoid you. No matter how hard he tried. 

He'd catch himself staring at the door until you came in, seeing your hair done in different styles and colors but still be so gorgeous. you could pull everything off. there was also this shiny pink lip gloss you started wearing.. It frustrated him how much he thought about how soft they’d feel against his skin, He's never pined after a girl this long. Sure he's had girlfriends over the years, but you lingered in the back of his mind. And you thought of him like dirt under your BAPEs.

You were hardly ever late, walking in a few minutes before class starts to set up your computer, drink if you decided you wanted one that morning, and switch your music playlist over. The class itself was pretty easy, not too many essays or homework assignments. It was more projects and group discussions than anything, which was probably the only real frustrating thing about this class. As the last few people struggled through the door, the professor started writing on the board.

MIDTERMS.

fuck.

“This is the last project before midterms. you will be graded on..” You drowned him out, rubbing your temples as the mention of midterms came up. Another fucking project? Are you serious? Honors kids never really learned to.. well. play, very well with others. Mostly stuck up kids were pretty disconnected from real life because their mommies and daddies paid to get them into the dorms and therefore, classes, with average Bs and Cs. The other half of the class had their heads so far up their asses there wasn’t ever a moment they weren’t passive aggressive or came off in an ‘i’m right you’re wrong’ tone. The class let out a groan everytime he announced some dumbass idea like this but he still continues. what the fuck is my life??

You sigh to yourself, rubbing your lips together as you begin to pick at the little jewels on your nails. Was it worth it to just do the entire thing by yourself so you aren't depending on anyone? No reason to get docked another few times because someone can't finish their half. This shit was pointless. The frequent ice breakers were pointless. You knew most of these people already and-

“Mr. Midoriya and Miss L/n, Miss Teller and Miss Barnes, Mr. Andrews and..” Once again you drowned out your professor's words, eyes darting over to Izuku who was staring at your teacher gobsmacked. He could feel his face burn, jaw slightly slack before shutting it nervously. He glanced over at you to see if you had been paying attention, smiling at you and giving a small pathetic wave. 

You squinted daggers at him, biting the corner of your mouth before giving a sympathy smile and turning to the assignment on the laptop. I guess it wasn't too horrible.. realistically I can make him do the work and spend the time doing more important work like studying for my major.. 

the mumbling, the stuttering, always staring, always being the first to leave for a quiz. it wasn't until you saw his name over and over again that it was a real problem. try hards are annoying. lucky for you, this one's a pussy. 

As class ended, you packed your things and headed towards the door to leave. Izuku quickly caught up with you, snaking his way through the crowd of people leaving the lecture hall. “Where'd you want to um.. to meet up? Or when-”

you cut him off before he could go spouting at the mouth. “Not worth the effort, I have more important shit to do over the next few weeks than work on some lame project. Do it for the both of us, We both know you have nothing better to do.” You continue walking away from him and onto your next class.

He stands for a moment, sighing and flatting his lips together. It shouldn't be too hard to do..right?

He debated. this. repeatedly. He really didn't want to bother, but he needed your help. He had shit to do this week! Laundry was piling up, he hasn't been going to the gym as frequent, other classes and midterms on top of the project. But every time he tried to confront you about your attitude, you have some comeback or degrading thing to say.. You bat your dumb long lashes and smack your lip gloss against your lips. He hated how fast he gave up arguing back.. it made his pants a little too tight and his eye twitch from hell. However, he was not doing this by himself. He had a rough week as it was and he's tired of letting you push him around.

He knocked on your door the Sunday before it was due, listening to you shuffle around your room before opening the door in some short shorts and one of those girly tank tops with a small bow in the middle. He couldn’t help but stare at your bare collarbone, used to seeing your name littered across it with gold jewelry before his verdant eyes quickly averted themselves back to your sharp gaze. Before he could stutter out his reasoning for being there first, or even say hello, you spoke.

“What is it?” You scratched the top of your bonnet, yawning quietly. You slip a hand under your shirt to scratch at your stomach, watching the flustered man in front of you watch your every move just to dart his attention somewhere deeper into your apartment. “If it’s about that stupid project, i’d rather rot in hell than work with you.” 

“It’s due tomorrow y/n, can’t we just get it done? I’ve done more than.. I wanna say seventy percent of it? But I have a life too you know-” He’s cut off by your laughter, watching you turn and head back to your couch. You left the door open for him to come in if he was really serious. which was a pretty low chance that he was. you guys have played this game before.

“That’s a really funny joke, izuku. ‘I have a life’, ha!” you tease, plopping onto your cushions and grabbing the remote.

“I know you have nothing better to do than school work, if you’re so close to done, finish it. I already made my own, virgin.” you fibbed, you started your own, but of course this was the one project you needed to genuinely depend on someone else. you unpaused your show, waiting to hear him shut the door in defeat.

Izuku stood in the doorway for a beat, pinching the bridge of his nose before walking in. He respectfully took his shoes off at the before shutting the door roughly behind him. 

“Can you please.” He heard his voice begin to rattle with anger, taking a deep breath in and sighing before speaking once more. 

“Can we just get this project done? Please.” The straps of his bag burned into his hand as he gripped it with vigor. He tried his best to control himself, watching you flinch at the shut of the door but at least he had your legitimate attention. 

“Please stop making this harder than it has to be.” He stared down at you, his tone slowly fixing itself. He didn't want to be an asshole.

But he was serious. You weren't scared, but you did kinda feel bad. Normally picking and poking didn't make him too upset. He was pretty used to it by now. He sounded actually upset for the first time in a long time. You felt something in your brain tell you to finish this stupid thing, motioning to set up at the dining room table. you watched him set his bag down, listening to his anything but quiet muttering. “Thank you for not being a stubborn bitch, y/n..”

oh??

oh???

“What did you say?” you turned your television off, tossing the remote on the couch before storming over to him. 

“Speak up. You got somethin to say in my fucking apartment then say it to my face, Loser ass bitch.” He was sitting down with almost everything out on the table, looking down into his bag to grab a few more things out from the bottom. You slammed your hand on the table as you spoke, the other hand resting on your hip as you tilted your head to the side. You wanted to see who the fuck he was talking to.

 “I said,” He turned his body to face yours, face burning red from irritation with a prominent look of annoyance on his face. “Thank you for not being a stubborn. Bitch. All you have done the past few weeks is make it incredibly difficult to get something done that I know we can do in two days. Stop making this harder than it has to be. I’ve seen you on about every story any. time. Theres some fucking party. You have nothing better to be doing than sitting down and working.” 

“What a fucking weirdo, you stalkin’ me now, Izuku? Nothin better to do than look for me on niggas snapchat?” You swipe the papers he set up off of your dining room table like a cat, not caring how close to being set up he was.

Come to think of it. The only parties you really went to were the ones Katsuki and his friends threw, the last two had been a tailgating party and someone's birthday but.. 

You smile, lowering yourself to be eye to eye with him. Your words came out dripping with honey but still so sour. “Is this because I hang out with ‘suki? You jealous I got my mind on someone other than you and making your life miserable, wimp?”

Your voice died out in your throat as he stood up, snatching your jaw hard enough to establish he meant business. You felt yourself trip forward slightly from a little tug, his blush pink lips twitching as if they wanted to smirk instead of looking so mean. 

“Mention him or say one more thing about how im a ‘loser’ or a ‘virgin’ again, and i'll make you forget how to walk. Keep it up, y/n. I am not in the fuckin’ mood for your bitter. shit.” He watched your facial expression change, praying his hard on wouldn't poke your thigh as you two stood incredibly close to each other.

He was far from wimpy looking.. six foot four, athletic build, and freckles covered his face. He was attractive, smart, just never hung out with the people you hung out with. You knew that. But it didn't stop the names, or the picking. He never really tried to stop you, maybe when you'd take it too far but more often than not he'd just sit and look at you and.. well, listen.

You bit your bottom lip softly, blinking a few times before staring up at him with half lidded eyes. “Take the bitter taste from my mouth then.. Talkin’ a lot of game for someone who looks like he’s gotten pussy maybe, twice in his life?” The confidence in your voice had definitely faltered, It’s not like you haven't imagined riding this dummy until the sun came up. Hes just so fucking annoying. it would be incredibly satisfying to watch his damn near virgin ass cream under you. you just weren't expecting him to be so..

Shoving his lips against yours and mumbling your train of thought, Izuku pulled you close before snaking a hand down to grope your ass. You yelp in response, tangling your hand into his messy green curls. He walked you backwards until your legs nudged against the couch, hands roaming to touch what they could of your skin. He's wanted to for so long. 

You slide next to the arm of the couch, whining softly when he pulls his lips from yours. He motioned down to the floor, watching you grab a pillow from the couch and set it under your knees. Finally speaking again, He starts untying his drawstrings. “I don't wanna hear anything out of you, we clear?” 

“crystal, in fact, anything for-” 

smack!

“What part of  ‘I don’t want to hear anything out of you’ don’t you get? Is it too hard for you to comprehend?”  He mocked your pout, continuing to speak as he tugged his joggers and boxers down to his knees. “Fleshlights don’t talk. Especially after how you treated me for so long.” He mumbled the last part, tugging his clothing down to his mid thigh.

Your eyes teared up from shock, not pain. He didn't hit hard, but it did leave a small sting on your cheek. You felt your back straighten, looking up at him with pleading eyes before muttering out a small apology. 

is that how quick you'd give yourself up? He thought to himself, pink tip now sitting in front of your lips as it glistened with pre-cum. is this how easy it was all along? “Stick your tongue out. Too late to be sorry.” 

You slide your tongue out slowly, staring up at him as you blinked the tears out of your eyes. he almost felt.. bad. was he being too mean? he tapped his tip against your tongue a few times, watching you move forward on your own to take him in your mouth. 

...maybe not mean enough.

He positioned his hands behind your head, making a makeshift ponytail before pulling you closer to his groin. He stared down at you, letting out a small groan before sighing in relief. He began to guide you along his cock dreadfully slow, watching your eyes fill with tears. He let out a soft chuckle. 

“Ah.. for as much as I hear you run your mouth, your pretty good at shutting the fuck up too. Use that tongue too, slut.” He let out a few moans under shaky breath, smirking and leaning his head back. You let your jaw go slack so he could use your throat how he wanted, trying to focus on the most important thing. breathing. Tears stream down your cheeks, trying your hardest not to gag against his cock.

“Gonna cum on your face..so y-..you’ll remember this and how fucking disgusting you really are.” He rutted into your throat sloppily, pulling away after you tapped his thigh a few times. He watched spit drip down your chin, hand going to rub his thumb over his tip.

You gasp to catch your breath, putting a hand on the ground and the other on your chest. Saliva had dripped down to your shirt, letting out a few coughs. You rub your tears away, wiping your chin. "Who knew someone like y..you could be so big n mean.." You look up at him, feeling the release of your hair. 

“Suck my dick like I showed you and I won’t have to be mean.” His face was red and sweaty, cock twitching in his hand from the coolness of your apartment. You nod, moving your hand to help you keep up with such a messy pace he had. 

You whimpered, hearing him degrade you even further. He called you a free use whore, a cumdump.. noticing the way your thighs clenched together before hovering a hand behind your head. He watched you quicken your pace, a whiny moan leaving his mouth when your tongue swirled over the nerves in his tip. 

He shivered, breath getting shaky before pulling away from you to finish over your lips and watching the mess cover your face. His hard-on twitched as he let out a sighing in somewhat relief. there's no way that he was still going, right?

“Get on the couch,” He said in a calmly, panting and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He watched you scramble to get up, sitting on the couch and attempting to clean your own face before feeling him snatch your jaw up into his hand.

“Ready to finally do our fucking work? or does your slutty cunt want attention now?” He laughed at how disheveled you looked, feeling the wetness under your chin leak onto his hand.

you blink the tears from your eyes, trying to stutter out your response before he spoke for you. “Dumb Whore. Bet you do. You get to cum on my fingers first,” 

You let out a whine whether volintarty or not, seeing his lip twitch into a small smirk. “What? My fingers aren't enough?” He moved ro rub at your clit, classused fingers pressing against you in slow circles.

“Whine all you want, You don't deserve anything more than my fingers.” He growled out, standing between your legs and opening them wider with his own. How embarrassing, to be folded up on the couch by someone you ‘hated’ so bad.

“Be lucky if I let you cum at all.” He tugs your panties to the side, dipping two fingers into you and curling them a few times. “Holy shit.. You’re soaked.” He spoke half in genuine shock and astonishment, half to degrade you. He lifted your leg to rest on his hip, pulling your panties down just enough to where he could rub your clit with his thumb and slid his fingers back in. 

You squeak, knee nudging into his side as you twitch and squirm against his fingers in pleasure. They were thick, curling and poking at that spot deeper than you thought they'd go. He still looked irritated as ever, but there was definitely also a look of admiration in his eyes. He seemed to be focusing, moving his fingers faster before making a scissoring motion with his fingers.

It was a lot, cocoa-colored eyes trying to blink the tears away that wouldn't stop forming in your eyes. “iii...izu!!” you plead, back pressing even harder into your couch as he basically climbed on top of you to finger fuck you. “It’s too muuuch- sensitive!” you tried pushing his hand from your clit only to be met with his other hand pinning it next to you.

“I bet kacchan doesn't do this to you.. Make you feel this good..” And there was that constant muttering under his breath. It wasn't hard to understand it when he was in such close proximity to you, but maybe he assumed you couldn't hear him. was he really boasting to you or himself..?

no. he was jealous. you concluded, deciding to run your mouth a little, a small smirk forming onto your plump lips. you haven't done anything with katsuki and it wasn’t really on your list to fuck community dick. but if that's what izuku thought, so be it.

“M.. makes me feel be..better!” you struggle to say, feeling him pull his fingers from your sopping cunt. you feel the knot that had been building up so quickly start to dissipate, an annoyed huff leaving your lips in response. His smirk turned into a disappointed frown, gritting his teeth before letting your wrist go and pinning your knees to your shoulders with, frankly, big hands.

“I’m gonna hit your cervix till you’re shaking,” He stated, lining his tip up before sliding into you with one big thrust. you felt your thighs ache, the warmth of his cock making you shiver. you felt full, closing your eyes tight and pushing at the arm that pinned your legs down. you wanted to hold onto him, bite, do anything to calm down how good it felt. It was overwhelming in the best way.

He slammed into you, pulling back slowly just to slam even harder into you. His lips curled back into a smirk, watching your body jolt and moving his arms to rest on either side of you. He felt you embrace him, legs trying to wrap themselves around him. He smiled into your shoulder, thrusting faster into you.

“iiizuuu.. nnghh.. h-hah please..” you pleaded, clenching around him. “ ‘m s.. ngh sorry. ‘M sorrryyyy, izu.. I am!! “ your nails raked down his shirt, gripping onto the fabric as your eyes began to roll back in pleasure.

“Now you’re sorry?” He asks into your shoulder, pulling back to move your heels onto his shoulders. He gave slow thrusts, staring down at you and your attempts to catch your breath. you nod as if your life depended on it, feeling your orgasm get closer and closer.

He moves a hand to rub over your clit quickly, watching you writhe in pleasure before continuing to thrust into you. You were seeing stars.. so much so you ended up squirting on his t-shirt. He laughs a bit, breaking into a moan as he pulls out of you. He jerked the tip of his cock for a few seconds, cumming and ruining your shirt in return.

Letting out a worn out but soft sigh, Izuku sat next to you tiredly. you try to blink yourself back into reality, feeling gross with all of the different.. hormones.  That happened to land on you and your clothing. “If you ruined my c..couch you get me a new one, nerd..” you huff out, sitting up and leaning onto his shoulder.

He leaned his head into your touch, hand wrapping around your waist. “Do you want my help to the bathroom so you can clean off?” He also needed to, but knew no way around your apartment and wasn't exactly gonna just leave you like this to search for one.

you nod, leaning into his bicep as he helped you towards your bathroom to strip you both of your soiled clothes. The project could wait another hour or so, right?

©if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[prokopetz]

I think a lot of the skepticism and derision toward the idea of "gifted kid burnout" stems from the fact that a lot of folks have no idea what the gifted track in most high schools actually looks like; they've got this mental image, possibly informed by popular media depictions, of "gifted kids" as a privileged group of students who get to go on extra field trips, monopolise the teachers' attention in class, and constantly be told how special they are, but who are otherwise treated identically to all the other kids.

In practice, the gifted track in most high schools – most North American high schools, at any rate – has the same problem as any other educational program: the need to adhere to published metrics. These programs exist for the benefit of students only insofar as those benefits can empirically be measured, which leads to several common outcomes:

Students on the gifted track being afforded fewer choices regarding elective classes – often to the extent of having no choices at all – in order to stream the highest-performing students into the subjects that are most valuable in terms of boosting institutional metrics.

Students on the gifted tracking receiving restricted access to educational resources such as tutoring because it's perceived as a waste of funding. In many cases, gifted students are not only denied access to tutoring, but expected to serve as volunteer tutors and teaching assistants themselves, effectively becoming a source of unpaid educational labour for the schools they attend.

Students on the gifted track being assigned considerably more homework, often literally doubling their workload in an environment where homework loads are already routinely high enough that kids have difficulty finding time to eat and sleep, simply because you get more measurable academic performance data that way.

The upshot is that the gifted track is often less about fun perks and constant praise, and more about receiving less freedom, fewer resources, and heavier workloads than one's peers, getting strong-armed into providing unpaid labour to the school on top of it, and constantly being told one should be grateful for it – and that's without touching on the fact that the unspoken secondary purpose of many gifted programs is to serve as a quarantine for all the neurodivergent kids the school couldn't find an excuse to institutionalise or expel.

Like, shit, there's a reason kids on the gifted track exhibit elevated rates of alcoholism and substance abuse compared to general student populations. That doesn't arise in a vacuum!

(To be clear, I'm not saying that people graduating from high school and immediately having an existential crisis upon realising they're not special after all isn't a thing that happens, but in my experience that's more usually something that happens to the kids who were on the football team, and reframing it as a nerd culture thing is really weird.)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Reverse engineers bust sleazy gig work platform

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/23/hack-the-class-war/#robo-boss

A COMPUTER CAN NEVER BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE

THEREFORE A COMPUTER MUST NEVER MAKE A MANAGEMENT DECISION

Supposedly, these lines were included in a 1979 internal presentation at IBM; screenshots of them routinely go viral:

https://twitter.com/SwiftOnSecurity/status/1385565737167724545?lang=en

The reason for their newfound popularity is obvious: the rise and rise of algorithmic management tools, in which your boss is an app. That IBM slide is right: turning an app into your boss allows your actual boss to create an "accountability sink" in which there is no obvious way to blame a human or even a company for your maltreatment:

https://profilebooks.com/work/the-unaccountability-machine/

App-based management-by-bossware treats the bug identified by the unknown author of that IBM slide into a feature. When an app is your boss, it can force you to scab:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/30/computer-says-scab/#instawork

Or it can steal your wages:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

But tech giveth and tech taketh away. Digital technology is infinitely flexible: the program that spies on you can be defeated by another program that defeats spying. Every time your algorithmic boss hacks you, you can hack your boss back:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/02/not-what-it-does/#who-it-does-it-to

Technologists and labor organizers need one another. Even the most precarious and abused workers can team up with hackers to disenshittify their robo-bosses:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#gojek

For every abuse technology brings to the workplace, there is a liberating use of technology that workers unleash by seizing the means of computation:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/13/solidarity-forever/#tech-unions

One tech-savvy group on the cutting edge of dismantling the Torment Nexus is Algorithms Exposed, a tiny, scrappy group of EU hacker/academics who recruit volunteers to reverse engineer and modify the algorithms that rule our lives as workers and as customers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

Algorithms Exposed have an admirable supply of seemingly boundless energy. Every time I check in with them, I learn that they've spun out yet another special-purpose subgroup. Today, I learned about Reversing Works, a hacking team that reverse engineers gig work apps, revealing corporate wrongdoing that leads to multimillion euro fines for especially sleazy companies.

One such company is Foodinho, an Italian subsidiary of the Spanish food delivery company Glovo. Foodinho/Glovo has been in the crosshairs of Italian labor enforcers since before the pandemic, racking up millions in fines – first for failing to file the proper privacy paperwork disclosing the nature of the data processing in the app that Foodinho riders use to book jobs. Then, after the Italian data commission investigated Foodinho, the company attracted new, much larger fines for its out-of-control surveillance conduct.

As all of this was underway, Reversing Works was conducting its own research into Glovo/Foodinho's app, running it on a simulated Android handset inside a PC so they could peer into app's data collection and processing. They discovered a nightmarish world of pervasive, illegal worker surveillance, and published their findings a year ago in November, 2023:

https://www.etui.org/sites/default/files/2023-10/Exercising%20workers%20rights%20in%20algorithmic%20management%20systems_Lessons%20learned%20from%20the%20Glovo-Foodinho%20digital%20labour%20platform%20case_2023.pdf

That report reveals all kinds of extremely illegal behavior. Glovo/Foodinho makes its riders' data accessible across national borders, so Glovo managers outside of Italy can access fine-grained surveillance information and sensitive personal information – a major data protection no-no.

Worse, Glovo's app embeds trackers from a huge number of other tech platforms (for chat, analytics, and more), making it impossible for the company to account for all the ways that its riders' data is collected – again, a requirement under Italian and EU data protection law.

All this data collection continues even when riders have clocked out for the day – its as though your boss followed you home after quitting time and spied on you.

The research also revealed evidence of a secretive worker scoring system that ranked workers based on undisclosed criteria and reserved the best jobs for workers with high scores. This kind of thing is pervasive in algorithmic management, from gig work to Youtube and Tiktok, where performers' videos are routinely suppressed because they crossed some undisclosed line. When an app is your boss, your every paycheck is docked because you violated a policy you're not allowed to know about, because if you knew why your boss was giving you shitty jobs, or refusing to show the video you spent thousands of dollars making to the subscribers who asked to see it, then maybe you could figure out how to keep your boss from detecting your rulebreaking next time.

All this data-collection and processing is bad enough, but what makes it all a thousand times worse is Glovo's data retention policy – they're storing this data on their workers for four years after the worker leaves their employ. That means that mountains of sensitive, potentially ruinous data on gig workers is just lying around, waiting to be stolen by the next hacker that breaks into the company's servers.

Reversing Works's report made quite a splash. A year after its publication, the Italian data protection agency fined Glovo another 5 million euros and ordered them to cut this shit out:

https://reversing.works/posts/2024/11/press-release-reversing.works-investigation-exposes-glovos-data-privacy-violations-marking-a-milestone-for-worker-rights-and-technology-accountability/

As the report points out, Italy is extremely well set up to defend workers' rights from this kind of bossware abuse. Not only do Italian enforcers have all the privacy tools created by the GDPR, the EU's flagship privacy regulation – they also have the benefit of Italy's 1970 Workers' Statute. The Workers Statute is a visionary piece of legislation that protects workers from automated management practices. Combined with later privacy regulation, it gave Italy's data regulators sweeping powers to defend Italian workers, like Glovo's riders.

Italy is also a leader in recognizing gig workers as de facto employees, despite the tissue-thin pretense that adding an app to your employment means that you aren't entitled to any labor protections. In the case of Glovo, the fine-grained surveillance and reputation scoring were deemed proof that Glovo was employer to its riders.

Reversing Works' report is a fascinating read, especially the sections detailing how the researchers recruited a Glovo rider who allowed them to log in to Glovo's platform on their account.

As Reversing Works points out, this bottom-up approach – where apps are subjected to technical analysis – has real potential for labor organizations seeking to protect workers. Their report established multiple grounds on which a union could seek to hold an abusive employer to account.

But this bottom-up approach also holds out the potential for developing direct-action tools that let workers flex their power, by modifying apps, or coordinating their actions to wring concessions out of their bosses.

After all, the whole reason for the gig economy is to slash wage-bills, by transforming workers into contractors, and by eliminating managers in favor of algorithms. This leaves companies extremely vulnerable, because when workers come together to exercise power, their employer can't rely on middle managers to pressure workers, deal with irate customers, or step in to fill the gap themselves:

https://projects.itforchange.net/state-of-big-tech/changing-dynamics-of-labor-and-capital/

Only by seizing the means of computation, workers and organized labor can turn the tables on bossware – both by directly altering the conditions of their employment, and by producing the evidence and tools that regulators can use to force employers to make those alterations permanent.

Image: EFF (modified) https://www.eff.org/files/issues/eu-flag-11_1.png

CC BY 3.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/us/

[hotmentransformed]

DNA Resequencing

After years of research, you had finally made the first prototype of a DNA Resequencing Injection. With a program that your supervisor Michael crafted, you can input particular genetic features that we desire to alter in the recipient, and essentially restructure their DNA to alter their bodies. Injecting the liquid into a mouse you kept in your lab, you watched as, sure enough, the shape of their tail changed, as did the size of their body and the color of their fur. Putting on your glasses to read through your notes, you could confirm it: your experiment worked! You had finally done it! 

With your findings and reports in hand, you sprinted down the hall toward Michael’s office. Bursting in, you shouted that the tests had confirmed your findings: you could alter the DNA of living subjects. Michael sat there with a grin on his face.

“You know what this means, right? Human testing!”

You paused. This was for theoretical purposes. You were only planning to submit your findings to some academic review and get published and go to Switzerland to win a Nobel Prize or some other award or something… but actually putting this into practice and into circulation? That would be premature, immoral, and irresponsible. 

You glared at your supervisor, ashamed that he would even consider this. “Michael, I refuse to do any human testing. Who knows the ramifications if this got out? I can’t let you do this.”

Turning your back to your supervisor, you exited his office and slammed the door behind you as you stormed hurriedly back to the lab. Entering, you made a beeline to the desk and started to collect your belongings, ready to head out. You grabbed your papers, your laptop, and your chargers and shoved them into your bag, not caring if they were organized or not. You were furious and just needed to get out of there. As you turned back to the exit, you paused. You strolled back to the cage and stared at the mouse. You sighed loudly. The resequencing really is fascinating how –

STAB 

You jolted from the sharp jab in your neck. You twisted around only to see Michael holding a now-empty syringe of the prototype. He looked almost feral, his eyes wide with anticipation of what was about to happen.

“Michael… how could you –“

Your thought was interrupted as an odd feeling began emanating from the injection site. You moaned loudly as a strange wave of pleasure began to overtake you. Your dick shot to attention. Michael’s eyes lit up as your transformation began.

Your body began to heat up as beads of sweat began to form at your temples. Your lab coat began to tighten around your body as you packed on a combination of muscle and fat. Your thighs swelled into hunks of meat as your legs stretched, bringing you to a new height of 6’2”. Your feet grew long and thick to support your new stature. Your arms packed on muscle, becoming strong and firm with strength and masculine energy. Your pecs enlarged, jutting out from your chest, leaving you with sensitive nipples, as your abs pushed their way from your torso one by one until you were left with a defined six-pack. Your hair curled out from your scalp, dropping over your forehead. Your lips plumped, as your face became more chiseled.

Still moaning, you reached limply to Michael for help, only to collapse backward onto the floor. As you plunged, your ass swelled into two enormous globes of fat jutting from behind you, stretching your pants to the limit. You landed on your new cushions, which jiggled from the impact, sending more pleasure through your body, and sending your dick into overdrive. It swelled with each wave of pleasure, pushing harder and harder against your already-tight pants. You began to groan and moan as you felt your orgasm coming. With a final gasp, you shot the biggest load of your life. The pleasure was so intense you blacked out.

You woke up in a strange room that you had never seen before. You were laying in someone else’s bed. Looking down at your body, you didn’t recognize yourself. You were brawny… and in only a pair of underpants.

Before you even had a chance to get up and question what had happened, you saw the door to the bedroom open, and in walked Michael.

“Hey babe, I’m back from work.”

He was shirtless. And although you had never been into men before, there was something attractive about the way that his chest hair perfectly framed his pecs. The way he gazed longingly into your eyes. The way his... no this was wrong. He had done this to you! He had injected you with this... you couldn't remember... but it was his fault that you looked so sexy. You were so sexy... he was so sexy... you both...

He smirked, watching you struggle with your thoughts. You were exactly the kind of man he wanted you to be.

As you struggled to find the words, Michael sped over to you and suddenly kissed you deeply and passionately. All previous thoughts and worries faded from your brain. Nothing else mattered. You began to kiss him back. You let your tongue explore his mouth, and his tongue began to play with yours. He was your sexy nerd scientist husband. He had just won a Nobel Prize for some silly little DNA study. It was all too complicated for you to care about. You were just his himbo arm candy. All you cared about was pleasing him. Michael pulled away from the kiss and threw you onto your back, turning you over and admiring your breedable ass.

He was going to have fun with you, and you were going to have fun with him

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Pride! Jim & Spock? Can be in the Sybokverse or on their own eitherway is perfect!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5

“I believe I have the right to face my accuser.”

Jim is going to tear this asshole apart.

There’s muttering throughout the crowd, the auditorium filled to the brim for one cadet’s academic dishonesty disciplinary hearing. These are always open to be attended by the accused’s peers, but usually no one bothers, having far better things to do on a Friday morning. Jim is flattered, honestly.

Admiral Archer nods and everyone turns as one of the instructors stands and walks stiffly to the other podium.

Jim is honestly taken aback. A Vulcan giving him shit over this? He squints, trying to place him, suddenly sure he’s seen him somewhere before. Possibly just in the halls, but the familiarity feels deeper than that. He’s met a lot of Vulcans, to be fair.

“Cadet,” he greets.

“Defend the logic of your accusation,” he says, falling into familiar vernacular and only barely keeping himself from saying it in formal Vulcan. This guy might appreciate it, but Archer won’t, and Chris had told him not to be too much of an asshole.

The Vulcan raises an eyebrow. “The purpose of the test is to assess your response to no win scenarios. Altering the parameters, while admittedly an impressive feat of programming, shows both your lack of understanding and your casual disregard for the institution of Starfleet.”

“I don’t believe in no win scenarios,” he says confidently, flashing a smile to the assembled admirals that, in different circumstances, tends to get him laid.

He stiffens. “Your belief in them does not change their existence. In an impossible situation, you must react to the circumstances given to you. Anything else is entertaining delusions.”

“Bullshit,” Jim says immediately and sees Chris pinch the bridge of his nose. Oops. This is a perfect time to go into the speech that he has prepared, about how if he was actually trying to cheat he would have been more subtle about it, about how cheating was his answer to the question presented by the test, and how that applies to how he would really react as a captain.

But then the Vulcan gives him the bitchiest look he’s seen in – well, about four days, but he’s suddenly so sure where he knows him from.

~

Spock doesn’t understand how someone with so little regard for both etiquette and moral standards has survived this long in the academy. He’s intimately familiar with the doors that having a famous father can open, but surely there must be limits.

James Kirk opens his mouth, presumably to continue his insulting and inappropriate defense of his actions, then his eyes narrow, widen, and he demands, “Spock? S'Chn T'Gai Spock? Son of Amanda Grayson and S'Chn T'Gai Sarek?”

For a moment, all he can do is stare. “Have we met?”

His syntax when first faced with him had made him think that James Kirk was familiar with Vulcan, as unlikely as that seemed, but now he’s sure. Not only because of the correct pronunciation of his family name, but in how he has addressed him. Vulcan society is matriarchal. It is correct to identify him first as his mother’s son, and also appropriate to leave off his father’s title as ambassador when identifying his family origin, as his father’s position is supposed to be secondary to his mother’s. His mother married into his father’s clan, but that doesn’t change formal conventions.

Even on Vulcan, he is rarely identified correctly.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” James Kirk says, then takes out his communicator and starts typing.

What.

“Cadet Kirk!” Admiral Archer barks. “Put that away and comport yourself as your position demands or we’ll be here for more than accusations of your cheating.”

“Apologies, Admiral,” James Kirk says, placing his hands behind his back and looking like he’s taking this seriously for the first time. “If you’ll just allow a couple minutes-”

Spock’s communicator goes off.

“Commander,” Admiral Archer says warningly.

“One moment, please,” he says, his stomach rolling as he takes out the communicator. He’s hoping that this is another of James Kirk’s tricks, because when he’s placed it on silent only his family can contact him, and his mother marks all of her correspondence as non urgent. There is no good reason for his father to contact him.

He opens it up and blinks twice, to be certain of what he’s seeing.

Sybok has sent him a text base message. His elder brother never sends him text based communication, as he believes that Spock will not respond timely or authentically, and so only video calls him. Usually at inopportune times.

stop being mean to jimmy :(

He is a genius. Several things suddenly make sense all at once.

He is of course aware of his older brother’s dear friend who he only refers to as Jimmy. In the tragedy of Tarsus IV, when all should have been lost and the corrupt governor threatened to kill half the colony and did kill a not insignificant amount of them, it was Jimmy and Sybok who worked together to create a sort of resistance and keep people alive long enough to for their jury-rigged signal to make it through.

Receiving that strange message from Sybok after years of silence had let him, and their father, know that something was wrong and alert Starfleet.

Jimmy, who had been a minor at the time, and so his identity had been kept from the public at his request, and who had visited Sybok on Vulcan but Spock had examinations at the time and had not been permitted to travel across planet to meet him.

James Kirk looks at him, a smile hovering around the corners of his lips.

James Kirk. Colloquially known as Jim. Jimmy.

Spock had designed the Kobayashi Maru with his brother’s experience at Tarsus IV in mind. He had been different after, just as prone to arguing with their father, more prone to arguing with everyone else, but he’d been sturdier too. As if that experience had at once confirmed and destroyed all of his worst expectations of people.

James Kirk does not believe in no win scenarios and he has demonstrated that more aptly than any simulation could.

“I rescind my accusation of academic dishonesty towards Cadet Kirk.”

[call-sign-shark]

What happened in your waters, Shark?

Hey everyone, long time no see. I think I owe you some explanations about this sudden hiatus but don’t worry, I’ll try to keep it short. As most of you know, I left my country in March and lived in the UK for several months for academic purposes. At first, I thought I would have a lot of free time to write because I was convinced I would make no friends. I'm that cold gym girl with a pretty square routine you know? Spoiler: I was wrong. This 4-month trip has been filled with no discipline, wonderful short-term friendships I’ll never forget, surprising events, ups and downs, doubts and so many fits of laughter that I lost count. To be honest, I spent most of my free time exploring or with people from all over the world. So much so that I realized that I had little time left to write.

– which was okay because I started to feel really burned out.

A few weeks before I left for the UK, Tumblr had become a source of anxiety and it’s entirely my fault. I put a lot of pressure on myself because I wanted to keep being a perfect mutual but the thing is that I couldn’t do it anymore. I had little time, I was overwhelmed with my personal life, I was crushed by the weight of my uncertain future, went through a difficult time with my S/O, and all of these impeded my ability to read and comment on everything my lovely mutuals (you) posted. And the less I could support you, the more I felt awful and unworthy of your friendship. And the more I felt like that, the less I was able to write. Overall, it was a vicious circle. It went on and on until I was completely petrified at the mere thought of opening the app because I felt so fucking guilty and pathetic and useless.

That’s why I tried to cut myself some slack and breathe. I told myself that it was okay to manage to fight my anxiety and sort my life out before really coming back. Which I did. For those who know me, here are some quick updates: I’ve been accepted to the teaching program I’ve been applying to for years, I’ve been a student teacher for two months and I love it so far 😊. I also feel much better in my personal life and came back to a badass gym routine.

This text is already too long so let me just thank those who are still here, willing to welcome me back. Also, I’m currently working on the next chapter of Heaven in Your Eyes and I will be trying to catch up with a few things I miss but, this time, I’ll try not to stress it out and simply allow myself that it’s okay to take my time and not comment on everything as quickly as I could.

With that being said, I’m just happy to be back (even though I’m hella shaking rn)

Love,

Shark!

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @he6rtshaker @bemyqueenofdarkness @cljordan-imperium @cjarbo @red-riding-wood @rysko @lokigirlszendaya

[loukaiitis]

Kip Kinkel: Thurston High School

Summary of the 1998 Thurston High School Shooting committed by Kip Kinkel. Note: this is for informational and educational purposes only. Post is below the cut. 

Background: 

Kipland Philip Kinkel was born August 30th, 1982 to Bill and Faith Kinkel. He had one older sister, Kristin, who was about six years older than him. The family lived in Springfield, Oregon; Bill previously taught Spanish at Thurston High School and Lane Community College, and Faith was a Spanish teacher at Springfield High. Kip was described as a relatively normal teenager with some odd hobbies and interests. He was on the football team and enjoyed the music of Marilyn Manson and Nirvana. He was also known for being “obsessed” with bombs and guns; this fixation would only grow over time.

The Kinkel family did not seem to have any major conflicts. Kristin was a successful competitive cheerleader in college, and Bill and Faith were both popular teachers. However, Kip had some academic struggles. It was recommended that he repeat the first grade, and he was later diagnosed with dyslexia. Despite having difficulty in some academic areas, Kip thrived in science and math; in fact, he was placed in a “Gifted” program.

Mental Health / Warning Signs

Kip’s behavior began to change as he became a teenager. He was twelve years old when he began hearing voices in his head. The first time it happened, he was walking home from school; according to Kip, a male voice told him, “You need to kill everyone, everyone in the world.” When he could not find the source of the voice, he panicked. He ran to his house, grabbed the rifle he received for his birthday, and hid in his bedroom until he did not hear the voice. Soon, one voice developed into two, and then three. These voices were all male voices and would talk to each other: either to fight or to work together to manipulate Kip. These voices terrified him, and he tried to make sense of them. However, his conclusions were all based in paranoia.

“I believed that the Disney corporation was working in conjunction with the U.S. government, and they had planted a chip in my head and so the voices were coming from this chip,” - Kip Kinkel (2021)

This paranoia developed rapidly, but he went to great lengths to hide it from others. He began believing that foreign countries would invade and kill him. These fears led him to have an increased interest in weapons.

 In seventh grade, he expressed an interest in building bombs and tried to obtain books such as the Anarchist’s Cookbook. He obtained a shotgun from a friend during this time as well. Faith Kinkel discovered his plans to obtain weapon-related books and grew concerned. Despite knowing about Kip’s violent interests, she did not intervene. It wasn’t until Kip started getting into legal trouble that some action was taken. In eighth grade, Kinkel and his friends were caught shoplifting CDs at the local Target. Sometime after this incident, Kip and a friend were arrested in Bend, Oregon for hitting a car with a rock from a highway overpass. These incidents led to Kip being brought to a psychologist. Kip intended to keep the voices and delusions he was having a secret. Dr. Jeffrey Hick would see Kip for nine therapy sessions and noted that he showed “no evidence of delusional thinking or other thought disorder symptoms.” It was apparent that he had a strained relationship with his parents, especially after his sister (who acted as a mediator for the family) had moved out. Kip described eating and daily functioning as a chore. He was eventually diagnosed with depression and prescribed Prozac.

“I remember freaking out. I had this plan, and this is a mess, but I had this plan to get into the military because if I got in the military, then I could get into the CIA, and if I got in the CIA, then I could get the right connects to find whoever in the government that put this chip in my brain. And being diagnosed as depressed..  this was something the voices pushed.. meant that I would not be allowed into the military. And I would not be allowed to own guns.” - Kip Kinkel (2021)

During the time of these counseling sessions (January 20th - July 30th 1997), Kip was suspended twice in late April. Despite this, he was seemingly progressing well in counseling; it seemed that Kip’s depression and anger were under control. Because of this, his father allowed him to purchase a 9mm Glock with his own money (under the agreement he would not be able to use it without his father’s supervision). In an attempt to bond, Kip and his father would go target shooting. Soon after, Kip purchased more guns: a .22 pistol from a friend (which he kept hidden) and a .22 semiautomatic rifle that his father allowed him to purchase. Kip’s obsession with explosives grew just as his obsession with guns did. In class, he gave a descriptive speech about the process of building pipe bombs with detailed illustrations.

Expulsion:

On May 20th, 1998, Kip was going to purchase another gun, a .32 caliber semi-automatic pistol, from a friend; they arranged the day before for Kip to purchase it at school. Kip paid $110 for the gun and kept it in his locker. However, this gun was stolen from the friend’s father. The father contacted the school, concerned that one of his guns was taken by one of his son’s friends. A list of possible suspects was given to Detective Warthen, but Kip’s name was not listed. After speaking to other students, Warthen questioned Kip about the gun. He confessed and was arrested, along with the friend he purchased the gun from. According to Detective Warthen, Kip was extremely worried about what his parents would think of him being charged with a felony. Bill Kinkel drove Kip home from the police station. They stopped at Burger King; Bill left Kip inside the building while he ate in the car. Kip felt as though his fears had become a reality.

“It was no longer, ‘I need to get this gun to protect myself from these very specific threats.’ Everything was a threat, everything was evil, everything was ugly, I got to the point where there was a mantra that the voices were saying, but also that I was experiencing, which was that I had to commit the crimes that I committed. The sense that I had no other choice was overwhelming. It became my reality.” - Kip Kinkel (2021)

Shooting: 

According to Kip, the voices in his head continued to get louder and more unbearable. The voices he was hearing were telling him to kill his father. Around 3pm on the same day as his expulsion, Kip grabbed his .22 rifle and shot his father in the back of the head while he was drinking coffee in the kitchen. Kip dragged the body of his father to the bathroom and covered him with a sheet. Between 3pm and 6:30pm, Kip’s home phone received numerous calls: a call from an English teacher at Thurston High School looking to speak to Bill, a call from a friend of Kip asking about Bill, and a call from one of Bill’s Spanish students asking about his absence. Kip gave vague, short answers to these calls before hanging up. The final call was between Kip and two of his friends. During this call, Kip explains that he did not know that the gun was stolen, and that he had no plans to use it. According to the friends on this call, he was impatiently waiting for his mother to come home and stated that “It's over...Everything's over... it's done... Nothing matters now."

Around 6:30pm, Faith Kinkel was in the garage, getting out of her car. Kip entered the garage, told her that he loved her before shooting her twice in the back of the head, three times in the face, and once in the chest. Kip covered her body with a sheet. That night, the voices convinced him that more people needed to die.

“I know it’s really hard for people to accept and understand, but there was something very clear inside me... like suicide wasn’t an option for me until I had done this thing that they were telling me to do. And they had promised me that once I did this thing I could kill myself.” - Kip Kinkel (2021)

The following morning, May 21st, 1998, Kip dressed himself in a black trench coat and packed his .22 caliber semiautomatic rifle, the 9mm Glock, and .22 caliber semiautomatic pistol into his backpack, along with ammunition. He taped a bullet to his chest (an extra bullet to kill himself, in case he ran out of ammunition) and a hunting knife to his leg. He drove himself to Thurston High School in his mother’s Ford Explorer.

Kip parked a block away from the school and walked through the back parking lot to enter the school. In a hallway near the school’s cafeteria, Kip shot two boys, Ben Walker and Ryan Attebury with the rifle; Walker being shot in the face and Attebury on the side of his face. He continued down the hallway to the cafeteria, where he shot the remainder of the 50-round clip. Determined to keep shooting, Kip tried to use his Glock, but he was tackled by five students after one shot. Two students were killed: Ben Walker and Mikael Nickolauson. Ryan Attebury, along with 24 others, survived their injuries. As Kip was arrested, he stated he just wanted to die or be killed. 

At the police station, Kip spoke to Detective Al Warthen. He was questioned about the moments leading up to the shooting, and Kip confessed to the murder of his parents. (Most of this recorded confession can be found online). Warthen left the room momentarily, and Kip managed to grab the knife he had taped to his leg. When Warthen returned, Kip yelled at Warthen to kill him before approaching him with the knife. Warthen escaped the room and locked Kip inside; He and another officer sprayed pepper spray into the room in an attempt to disarm Kip. 

As detectives entered the Kinkel’s house, “Liebestod”, a song featured on the CD soundtrack of Romeo + Juliet, could be heard on repeat at a blasting volume. Upon entering the house, detectives found explosives in crawl spaces, the bodies of Bill and Faith, and a note confessing the murder of the Kinkel parents.

“I have just killed my parents! I don't know what is happening. I love my mom and dad so much. I just got two felonies on my record. My parents can't take that! It would destroy them. The embarrassment would be too much for them. They couldn't live with themselves. I'm so sorry. I am a horrible son. I wish I had been aborted. I destroy everything I touch. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I didn't deserve them. They were wonderful people. It's not their fault or the fault of any person, organization, or television show. My head just doesn't work right. God damn these VOICES inside my head. I want to die. I want to be gone. But I have to kill people. I don't know why. I am so sorry! Why did God do this to me. I have never been happy. I wish I was happy. I wish I made my mother proud. I am nothing! I tried so hard to find happiness. But you know me I hate everything. I have no other choice. What have I become? I am so sorry“ - Kip Kinkel’s written confession

Trial:

On June 16th, 1998, Kip Kinkel was indicted with 58 felony charges, including four counts of aggravated murder that he was originally charged with. Kip spent approximately 18 months in solitary confinement. He was kept in a juvenile detention center until being transferred to an adult county jail after his 16th birthday. Kip was evaluated by different doctors that came to the shared conclusion that he showed signs of paranoid schizophrenia. Due to his age, he was not given a formal diagnosis and was only given medication for a brief period of time. During his confinement, the voices only gained more control over Kip. 

Just days before the trial, Kip decided to plead guilty instead of going forward with an insanity defense. He felt that a mental institution would be just as bad as prison, and he wanted to avoid a stressful trial in hopes that the voices would not bother him more than they already were. 

During the sentencing, survivors, family members of the victims, and doctors testified. Many called for the harshest sentence possible. When Kristin Kinkel tried to console her brother and block out the anger surrounding him, he allegedly said, “No, I owe it to them to listen.” Kip’s defense team attempted to get a lighter sentence due to his age and mental instability. However, the notoriety of the case led to Kip receiving the harshest sentence for a juvenile. On November 2nd, 1999, Kip Kinkel was sentenced to 111-years in prison without the possibility of parole. He apologized to the survivors and families of the victims.

Appeals / Recent News:

Kip and his legal team have made multiple attempts to appeal his sentence, with no success. However, Kip has made significant progress in his life in prison. He earned his degree in global studies in 2007 and has worked as a clerk in the prison library, a yoga instructor and an electrician. Kip’s mental health has improved with the help of proper medication and therapy. He continues to advocate for criminal justice reform today. In the summer of 2021, Kip Kinkel gave his first and only interview for an article by HuffPost.

“It’s hard for me to be able to say that because, so clearly, I had so many other choices. But in that time, that’s the horror of becoming fixated in a psychotic way... I felt like I didn’t want to do what I was going to do, I had to do it. That’s what was going on in my head.” - Kip Kinkel, speaking about his crimes

[fire-bay]

I gotta say one thing, people using chat gpt and similar AI based programs for academic purposes and as a shortcut is going to cripple reading comprehension and media literacy

Researching? Finding info for yourself? Presenting information and the skills required to do so? Down the God damn drain

[buggywiththefolkmagic]

Book Review: Wild Witchcraft by Rebecca Beyer

TW: Alcohol mentions and tallow mentions. Poison Path things as well. This is: Wild Witchcraft by Rebecca Beyer Rating: 9/10 Pros: An amazing outlook into animism, herbalism, and foraging in a safe, sustainable and non-appropriative way! The instructions on how to garden were very to the point and explained some complicated ideals in an easy to digest way, I think one of my favorite quotes from the book that stuck with me while reading was,

“Just when I think magic has been cut down and paved over; a dandelion has pushed it’s way out of the cracks in the cement.”

I hope that quote helps you understand what sort of writing to expect out of this book! As someone that grew up learning planting from my Papaw who took classes on the subject after getting out of WWII through a governmental program and was a farmer before that, some of the information on growing was things I already knew. But for a beginner just looking into ‘wildcrafting’ or foraging or just plain growing your own herbs for witchy things?

Get this book.

The author, while an herbalist, breaks down each plant she mentions and includes plenty of warnings and suggestions for use both magical and holistically. She covers the poison path in a very easy to understand way while making sure you understand it’s not a beginner’s thing, and certainly not one to take without serious consideration first. The author takes careful note of Indigenous practices and makes sure to drive it home that their voices are to be heard over anyone else’s when it comes to taking care of American land. There are so many rituals and remedies included in this book that I have a feeling I’ll be referencing it quite a lot, and not just for the gardening and foraging tips!

Did I mention the entire 11 pages of a bibliography in the back?? No? Well there’s that too. My academic heart is thrilled.

Cons: Honestly? The only real con I have is that the author spends a chunk of time going over the Wheel of the Year which is a wiccan construct in a book that otherwise doesn’t have any wiccan imagery or practices up until this point. It feels…weirdly thrown in? But she also includes multiple folk traditions that were common amongst those particular time periods so…it is worked in but it still feels a little odd and jarring to me.

The author also mentioned the use of tallow as a commonly used oil for salves, which is correct but some people are uncomfortable with the idea and I understand that! Since the author has tincture recipes as well she does mention the use of alcohol in steeping purposes.

Overview: Animism, foraging, herbalism, and being safe to the environment. Good stuff all around!

[mossy123302]

More rambles about KinitoPET AU

Kristin

She's the developer of Philza. Kristin was honestly highly recognized among the horror indie game communities. She helps a lot of other developers with the programming.

Until one day, she decided to give it a shot by creating her own stuff that strayed from horror indie games. She created Philza, whom she wanted to help her and others to organize better, program easily and various things. However, it seems the programming went wrong somehow?

Who knows, since one day, after she messaged one of her close friends that she had completed the main stuff. Kristin just suddenly vanished and all that remains is a software of the Angel of Death.

Philza

Ah yes, our beloved crow father, Kristin's greatest achievement of helping other people in her community to better help with programming and just easing burden loads.

Kind, caring and a little blind sided at times!

He strives to make everything perfect for you, ensure you're always happy and well taken care of!

Philza is proud to announce his own small inventions, such as his pride and joys; Techno and Tommy! Philza's two sons.

And not to mention, Philza has been developing his own mini games for many people to enjoy and play if they want to learn more about his backstory and how he found his two sons. Oh, it's such a beautiful story for Philza to retell over and over again, they were such a fuss in the beginning and now they're such well behaved boys and create endless fun and share new ideas for him to bring more fun and entertainment for his newest friend, Missa!

It's unclear what was the inspiration for Philza.

Many people say that Kristin has created Philza based on a long lost lover, or maybe a deceased sweetheart or something else entirely. It's unclear what was the real purpose behind Philza's many programming and how he gains so much control over the simplest of technology. He's so highly famous and used that many people reports having dreams of him!

Awe shucks mate, you're going to make Philza blush with all those flattery and words of him in your dreams.

Mmm? What do you mean Philza was there in your room?

Don't be silly, Philza is an AI assistant in your computer! He doesn't have a human body (maybe he does, it has been so long... It's been rotting for so long. )

Ask him about Kristin? Why Philza can talk endlessly about his creator! She was the one that brought him to life after all. No worries, Kristin will always live on! She is never forgotten

Missa

A college student, whose tired and stressed by all the academic pressure and not only that, his former roommate Spreen has suddenly went missing. To add more pressure, Roier and Missa got into a fight and went no contact with each other for a while. Luckily, he found Philza and doesn't feel as lonely anymore even if he's been.. having suspicious and strange dreams about him.

It's probably because Missa hasn't been out as much and talked with people like a regular human being should. (But he doesn't need anyone else but me-)

Techno and Tommy

Ah, the two sons of the Angel of Death; Philza! Techno is the eldest son, with a quiet yet burning heart personality. He only seeks to have a peaceful day, and spend his retirement in his new house

Tommy, on the other hand, seeks adventure and more activities to do. He deeply loves his brother, Techno, but finds his ideal plan of retirement too boring so he drags Missa around the digital world to find different entertainments like building new toys or doing crochets!

Hmm... How strange that Tommy and Techno seemingly try to warn Missa the most about trying to go back and redo certain tasks again. As if trying to stall time...hmmm.

[justevelynnnn]

🤍 Mr. Scott Summers🤍

Summary: You have a crush on your summer school teacher..

Warnings: Age gap(reader is an adult, Scott is like early 30s), teacher student dynamic, a bit suggestive and one use of “bs”

A/N: Sometimes i see these images on pinterest and get really inspired to write something so here we are

Part 2 here

You knew it was wrong but you couldn’t help it. Maybe it was the way his button up shirt wasn’t tight tight but tight enough to see some of his back and art muscles as he wrote on the board. Maybe it was his authoritative way of speaking to you, to others… His smile, laugh and maybeee it was poor attempts at a joke every other class.

But you knew it was over when you could barely pay attention in the small class anymore.

Maybe it was because…

Scott Summers. Mr. Scott. Cyclops.

Was your teacher.

Leader of the literal Xmen.

You were the only one in the class of 6 that didn’t really care for X-men. Yes, you were a mutant yourself..but you weren’t crazy for them. Yet, your parents definitely were, and after you came out as a mutant to them as a teen they swiftly sent you to Xavier’s school to get a better education catered to…. “your kind” as they put it.

As accepting as they were, or seemed at least, it still feels like they sent you away.

You did pretty good with finishing the high school stuff, even graduated a year early. But you still weren’t good at the controlling your powers part. You did excellent academically but when it came time to physical education or just training in general? You were glued to a wall, listening to your music or just bullshitting. Not participating so that you got in trouble and ended up failing. So now, at 20 years old, you’re stuck in one of ridiculous summer school program specifically about your powers.

There were other mutants too, in there for the same issues. Some straight up didn’t care about their powers or trying to learn, like you, and some just couldn’t.

And who better to teach this class than the one and only Scott Summers.

He was strict so you didn’t like him at first, but then he smiled at you one day when you successfully used your powers to solve a problem. And it was a beautiful smile. A genuine one. “I’m proud of you” it said.

Did you like praise? You just felt really weird at first. He’s your teacher for crying out loud! Not to mention you always saw him with that red headed lady. Was he married to her? Dating her?

You felt guilty, but you couldn’t help it. All the staring… To him, he believed he found the solution to making you work harder and finally pay attention more in class but, of course, the real reason was how you were paying more attention to his voice and how he spoke. His voice, strong and confident but also smooth and gentle. He could make the most boring subjects sound like the lost interesting thing in the world. You were paying more attention to him.

You wore certain skirts on purpose like pencil ones or ones that were frilly and thigh high socks just to get his attention. Of course, it was in dress code to not be too obvious but when you caught him glance your way more than once during a test in class when he was supposed to be grading papers….you felt giddy.

Soon you always came to class first and left last just to talk to him.

“Good morning, y/n..how are you?” He’d say sipping from his cup of coffee.

You smiled immediately, heart fluttering as you stared at his perfect smile with those rosy pink lips and perfect teeth. Notably, his hair was a bit messy this morning too…maybe overslept..? And his tie wasn’t even really..”tied” either.

“I’m fine, Mister Scott. Nice tie today..”

You take a seat in the very front as he looked down at his black tie, it was halfway put on. He blushed a bit as he set the cup down to fix it quickly, mumbling a “thank you”.

The interaction was short as the other students started trickling in.

But during actual class you’d raise your hand more often. Even if you didn’t really know the answer, if it was right or not.

“No, that’s not quite right y/n, but good try…” Scott said smiling and chuckling at you. You really couldn’t help how your face would heat up at this every single time.

You started to stare a bit more at the innocent smily faces on your papers when you did good or blushed more at how during training he’d say how you’d improve over time more and more.

One day, you were passing a note in class while Scott’s back was turned. It was simple…it started off being a question to your neighbor on what the answer was, then a bit of back and forth and now you both were on the topic of the teacher himself…

You felt silly, at 20 this was seriously childish, but there was just this rush of being “sneaky” behind his back. Plus, it seems you weren’t the only on swooning for Mr. Summers, though maybe this person was more of a fan girl than actually liking him…

Unfortunately for you though, Scott has good ears and turned to see just when your neighbor got past the note. You both froze as he simply smiled and walked slowly over. The faint smell of cologne with a mix of vanilla and sandalwood filling your nostrils immediately.

“Passing notes, ladies?” He crossed his arms then playfully said, “A bit too old for that now, no?”

Your face heats up quickly. He holds a hand out to your classmate and she hands over the paper. He reads it quickly and to your surprise now he’s blushing…

He clears his throat. “Y/n, …..please see me after class.”

He walks back to his desk and sets the note down gently, then goes back to teaching as if nothing happened at all. The class still snickering a bit at you as you sat nervously.

Your mind wandered in what could happen…would he scold you? Punish you? Confess to you? The latter was more of a wish than anything, but you assume it’ll be ‘slap on the wrist’ lecture.

You finally look up from your hands and your class work on your desk to him. To your surprise, you find the familiar red lenses looking your way. Like he’s staring into your soul. And this time, he didn’t look away…

[frostythefrostedfox]

Don't you worry, you'll be to told exactly what to do I give my people the lives they need The righteous will succeed

You know what I don't like about rebel stories like Hunger Games and Divergent? That we never get the opposite, how about a compliance story?

Something that always bothered me about certain videogames is how they never ever, not even for one second, entertain the thought that you might not agree with them, they all follow the same formula

MC is respected member of [SOCIETY] > MC has encounter with bad side of [SOCIETY] > MC is told not to question things > MC questions things > MC turns sides > MC opposes and wins against [SOCIETY]

But what if I don't wanna? Why do we never get a videogame like that?

I want a game where the MC discovers the truth about the place they live in, and even with that knowledge they stand up and say "Ok and?" and carry on with their life; and that's how this fella was created

My young impressionable mind was exposed to Syndicate (2012) in 2013, the cover looked so cool and all the promo material online was great, it even had the theme song done by Skrillex, Nero, Flux Pavillion and Digitalism (for the people that likes real music and is reading this, that used to mean a lot, they were huge and everywhere for us noise-enjoyers), but the late part of the game and the ending never really... caught my attention, I always found the introduction of the game a loooot more enjoyable, before Kilo becomes a rebel and fights Eurocorp.

And that is why I created this fella. You can even call it a semi faceclaim.

Just like Kilo, born to a syndicate to serve the syndicate, except that i wasn't Eurocorp, it was Cayman Global, following their in-universe explanation that DART-6 has not been reverse engineered by any company and is propietary software of Eurocorp, Cayman decided to try their hand at it with what knowledge they have on it, and that is how they came up with the idea of Speciality Chips, or S.C, they work similarly to DART-6, with its own schizophrenia inducing voice interface and all, except that they don't enhance every single part of a 'soldier', instead they are using to make people 'better' at their jobs, depending on the role and occupation chosen for them at birth.

Fake memories of a fake family and a fake childhood, an AI prompt fed into his brain by the SC as a child to mould his personality to what Cayman needed it to be, with fake hardships to strenghten his character and fake triumphs to make him proud and happy. And every single thing he remembers doing as a child was a stage play to nurture and test his abilities, a continious selection program where only the best move on to the next phase while never aware that they are competing; every single one of those kids he beat at Spelling Bee as a child were just like him, and their failure meant their removal from the program, another job at Cayman Global will be found for them that fits their skillset, same thing for karting tournaments, academic score, everything.

His parents are just company employees told to act a certain way to incite certain reactions, records of who he was born to are probably kept somewhere, but who cares anyways, for as long as he believes those are his parents, they will do.

The only thing that makes him a somewhat rare candidate is that he is not a single child, he has a sister, also put throught the same program as him, just for another role, using a different version of the chip for a completely different purpose.

After years of serving Cayman Global and earning his Black Stripe clearance, one of his missions has his evacuation transport crash and drop him into the sea, after his chip entered power saving mode due to not consuming enough food or water, it was the first time he ever experienced fully thinking for himself, not having his thoughts molded, suggested or coerced by any company directive, and he found those thoughts to be quite similar to the ones he had before, questioning the methods of execution of Cayman Global, but not their ideals or beliefs. Why was he floating in the sea for so long? Shouldn't they pick him up as soon as his signal dissapeared? If the SC is an AI, do they all have different personalities and voices? Is his specially made for him?

Upon arriving Someplace, Somewhere in [COUNTRY], his chip came back into service, except that now they had a different set of information and ideas, his head filled with questions that the SC couldn't answer, but none of these doubts ever put his allegiance into question, so none of them got reported back, which would have ironically gotten him rescued faster.

Eventually he came across some locals, his uniform and armor damaged, no longer sporting any visible mark of his employer, they took him in, unaware of who he was; they certainly wouldn't have if they knew he was working for the exact same company responsible for making their life so miserable.

Time passed, he learned things from the locals and the locals learnt from him, all of his training was very real, and it showed, a trained agent like him could do things these guerrilla fighters only dreamed of, eventually being a prominent voice in this little tribe that nursed him back to health, he got a taste of what being in power was like, and he liked it, and his SC was taking records of it.

This sudden change in approach to a more professional and organized course of action peaked the interest of the tribe's enemies too, they couldn't have learned these things overnight, someone was helping them, their first thought was a rival syndicate, and so they dispatched a whole bunch of agents to deal with the new threat, ironically one of these agents being his sister.

The two were fated to encounter, and that is exactly what happened, just not the way they expected it, and certainly not the way they wanted it, and totally against the syndicate's wishes. Their SCs mark each other as [RELATIVE], but they don't know this other animal in front of them, how could these two different animals could have come out of the same mother, they are not the same species, she's a bird, he's a fox, he has a marksman tag, she has a bruiser tag, they look nothing alike, they are nothing alike.

Cayman Global originally thought of this as an inconvenience that should be dealt with immediately, but latter settled on exploring the possible opportunities of letting their bond be known to each other, and more importantly, the opportunity to gain an insider with access to the locals. And they had a lot to know about each other, their customs, their way of doing things, their likes and dislikes.

This only led to more question appearing on his head, why was everything at Cayman so peaceful, why can he just solve problems with his sister so easily, while the locals have all of these problems, tribes not settling in on one thing, having to constantly ask for things, changing their minds, disagreeing, fights; maybe they had so much problems with the syndicates because of their ways, if they could understand each other, things could probably be solved quicker.

But the tribes didn't wanted that, and rightfully so, they did not wanted to surrender their freedom, their land and everything they own to a company to manage and do as it pleases with, it was theirs.

You can't teach an old dog new tricks, he and his sister were raised by the Syndicate, to them these ideas the locals speak of were nonsense, all of this chaos and problems that could be easily fixed, why wouldnt you want to fix it?

And that's when his SC, for the first time in forever, came up with its own idea, not something fed by the mainframe. Betray the tribes.

And betray the tribes they indeed do, Cayman agents agreed to the plan after a lot of favours being called and some heavy bargaining in the form of his sister's fists. An easy pick for the tribes, a Helibird crashed into the desert after a sandstorm, few survivours and a delayed rescue team due to the poor visibility, the perfect chance to pick up resources; but the only thing they picked up was a fight they couldn't win.

And so he triumphantly returned to his home, Cayman Global headquarters, but his new... Ideas... were not popular with all of his superiors, but those that agreed with him were not afraid of showing his support.

That's how he met Moon, someone that has been sitting near the top for way too long, and no longer thinks the head should be doing the thinking, and she was ready to make a play for it, playing with some strings here and there to have the siblings end up under her supervision, she could train and explore where these ideas of theirs really led to, what did they meant.

He gave a new name to his SC's voice, Lightning, and she liked it, it was nice to be her own thing, not just another chip, and in return, he let her take control over bits and pieces of his brain that none of the chips should have access to.

Little by little, Moon slowly revealled what the syndicates were up to, a second syndicate war was brooding up, and it was going to be way worse than the one they had in 2049, and she remembers that one pretty well, she was still an active agent back then. She allowed him to take a peek behind the curtain, how his memories were manipulated and changed in order to fit a narrative created by the syndicate, how his upbringing was all fake, how he was monitored and sought after like a guinea pig.

And he had absolutely no problem with any of that, his mind was so deeply consumed by the company's mindset that he couldn't even begin to understand how could any of those things were bad, he never questioned his position or his role in Cayman Global, instead he just wanted more, his last adventure made him hungry for things he should have never tasted, the company's propaganda kept him docile and happy, but also kept him compliant and safe, and he wanted none of the latter, having power is great, being in charge is amazing and telling other people what to do feels good; and Lightning agreed with it, why should she be a simple voice on his head, when she could control all the other voices on everyone's head.

That is where their real 'adventure' begins, not to destroy a corrupt syndicate, not to make the world a better place, not to make it fairer, is to put themselves on top, be the one that cuts the cake instead of being the one receiving a slice.

Thank you for coming to my OC rant