#and only responded to my questions that would have let us give them the data they wanted TODAY AT FUCKING 2PM ON A FRIDAY AGAIN

[cappurrccino]

i'm going to need my boss to stop saying "it should be pretty quiet and nothing weird should come up while i'm gone" right before she goes on vacations, because it's like that puts a hex directly on me and guarantees that the weirdest shit imaginable is going to pop up and i'm going to have to try to navigate it while not even having a real policy/procedure manual to fall back on

[janmisali]

hi jan Misali! you might not remember me, and that's fine, I don't expect you to, but a while back I presented to you a spreadsheet analyzing the lyrics of "how do we know what's mainline?" I'm calling back in to say that i've done another thing, and this time i might have gone overboard...? TL;DR: made a spreadsheet of all the simple numbers from the results of "how many Super Mario games are there NOW?," it's at the bottom of the ask.

you see, I wanted to go back to the survey form to see if I could look back over my own answers purely so I could get the list of games you chose for the survey, because as far as video games only are concerned, it's a pretty damn comprehensive list! So I wanted to go over all of them to go in-depth on my own time.

WELL, I'm not sure if you intentionally made it this way or not, but the Form has a "view previous responses" button, giving me and presumably anyone else access to all the pie charts and numbers and stuff, but crucially this also gave the first 115 or so free answer questions to me. i hope you can trust that i did nothing with those. I was only there for the numbers.

what i used said numbers for was this: a spreadsheet that compiles the raw numerical data that was available to me (literally just the number of people who responded with each answer). I've also color coded it. However i did unfortunately input all the numbers myself. I am 99.9% sure the numbers themselves are accurate, although there may be one or two inaccuracies. https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1Z-8VGt39SCcG1h3ZZt3d4mP6tF7-03261yXuKN6BBMA/edit?gid=2127805774#gid=2127805774

I was unable to see who answered in what way, so I can't determine what % of people answered both questions a certain way, but it should probably be enough to just see the numbers. maybe. i have no idea honestly. Your faq says "it would take about as much work as it took to make the video itself to get [the raw numbers] into a comprehensible format," so i hope this cuts out some of that work for you. not that I expect you to do anything with this, but it would be nice if you let this reach a wider audience.

:O

[blingblong55]

Worth it- 141 & Laswell

pic credits: @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot (left)and @ave661 (middle)

Based on a request: Wait, wait, first of all hope you're doing well and make sure to drink a glass of water if you haven't already. Cozy? Yeah? Okay, Can I request something (you can choose whether it's a HCor not,etc etc) on how TF141 would react to meeting a teen boy around 15-16, who's like a genius in engineering, mathematics, and physics? Like the boy could legitimately build a rocket if he had the time, help and materials. Maybe the meet him because he got in trouble with the government for unknowingly making a weapon? Maybe he made it for a class assignment and it was stolen without his knowledge? Whatever you think makes sense here. Leaving space for you to enter your own creative thoughts, just the general idea of it. The boy is based on a character of mine from a book I'm writing, his name his Michael, but ofc you can switch that up however you wish. Have fun with this one Ignore if it doesn't sound fun to ya <3 ---- M!Reader, genius!reader, platonic!relationship? ----

A/N: drank enough water, thanks for the reminder <3

Y/N, the name of the unknown internet user that had been chased by many governments and caught by the one and only Task Force 1-4-1.

You created something so dangerous that no one believed Laswell when she told her bosses the age you had when you started all this. You created the one thing most geniuses working for the government didn't know existed outside of the numbers and graphs they had done for it. At first, the FBI had named you un-sub A. Now, they can finally put a name to the unknown face.

How were you caught? Well, it wasn't easy, let's start there. When all this mess began, you were no older than fifteen. You are practically a ticking bomb to the government so when they heard that someone was asking the right questions to chemists around your city, they began to search for you. Laswell at the time was on a small break from work but the journals you had left in your parent's home when you ran away one rainy day.

In the journals, Laswell found all she needed to have a task force assigned to find you. She called it Operation Mikey, the name was just to fill in the void of the one thing she couldn't find, you.

Your parents weren't much help in giving your name, hence why Mikey became a temporary replacement. With them high off any drug and you on the run with the rest of your journals, Price was tasked with finding you and making sure you were secured in their care.

For three months, you ran away. Moving to different cities and continuing your research of the chemical weapon you fabricated in your bedroom, the same one Laswell had locked in a laboratory somewhere in the capital of the country.

In month four, you found an abandoned building in the middle of the desert. That's where your laboratory, if you can call it that, began.

For months after that, you collected data and it wasn't until nine months later that Soap found you trading chemicals with some scientist that you were caught.

Once you were brought in, they had realised so much about you. You were way younger than what their profile had thought of, much more intelligent than they'd think a person your age was and so skilled in engineering, mathematics, and physics.

"Why didn't we find his information sooner," Laswell questions her bosses. "Kid was never even registered by his parents." The man on the phone answers. "How the hell did he even get this kind of education then?" She asks again but you had that answer.

"My parents just bought me books and hired a weird guy from the street to teach me anything," you respond and Price chuckles. "Bullshit, kid. Now tell us, how the hell did you get all of these journals?" He points to the evidence bags. Your research of months now being read by other scientists.

"I am the creator of them, not let me go," you protest against Ghost's grip on you. "No chance," Price barks. "What's your real name?" Laswell asks you. "Y/N," you answer knowing it was either this or get thrown in some federal prison.

"And you created this weapon? do you have any idea how dangerous it is to create something like this? How many people it would take to create a mathematical concept and then make it into a physical form?"

"It's not that hard, lady," you answer with an attitude. Were people this dumb?

It took hours, lots of bribing and one request from Soap and Gaz to give you food for you to open up. What? you are a teenager who needs enough food for growth, of course, you'll talk once they give you food. Talking and having to dumb it down took hours though. After all, how can you explain to hardheaded soldiers about probability theory, and why it mattered so much to your project that it took ten trials and two journals worth of failed work to get?

Laswell was more than impressed, no seriously, she was like a proud mother listening to you explain every page and even give notes in only a way that a teenage boy would to idiotic adults like them. She thought it was so adorable how a boy your age would throw nerdy jokes into the explanations and how she watched you be the only one to laugh at them.

Ghost would often smile when you'd give a snarky comment to Price. Don't get him started on the chuckles he let out when you threw a few old man jokes at Price or made comments on Soap's weird hairstyle. The comments towards Gaz were funny but also adorable how you tried to find more reasons to get him annoyed.

Price thought of his son who was about your age when you'd get excited over your most recent discovery for the weapon you had created. It was nice to know that behind all that matter in your head, you were still a kid. It was even nicer when you'd make the jokes no one understood but secretly, Price's nerdy self understood some jokes.

Gaz saw his younger brother in you, which is why even when you made jokes at his expense, he would let them pass. The way you looked at him when having to explain things was nice in some way but it was way funnier when you called Soap the smart one of all four for being able to understand the way bombs work better than anyone and then have Ghost shake his head and tell you, "that man is just a muppet, don't believe what we tell you about his work."

Soap was fascinated by you for sure. Just like Price, he understood some of the jokes, even the cheesy puns you made about certain elements. He liked you, it was something fresh from the people he usually deals with.

The team, for the past few days, grew to adore the nerdy man you are. Yeah, you teased and even called them out on wrong facts but it was new. It's good to have someone so intelligent and be so honest with them this time. What was funny is that you know so much about many topics few understand but you don't know much about real life outside of the nerdy realm you live in. It's a nice feeling when passing by Laswells office you find a framed picture of the day Ghost and the other men of the team taught you about hunting and even how to play baseball, something you sucked at in the beginning but have gotten better over time.

It's like having four funny, serious, and cool dads and an amazing mum whilst being taken care of at the base the team called home.

A/N: I hope this was somewhat okay and good luck on your book!

Tags: @liyanahelena @mangowafflesss @froggy-anon @jinxxangel13 @enarien @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @avidreadee123 @ikohniik @konigssultwithghost @luvecarson @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @marshiely @sleepyycatt

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: In the line of duty

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)    

The bulkhead slowly rose and Feneci walked on to the command bridge with her film crew. It wasn’t the most ideal of jobs she had been tasked with over the years but it was proving to be one of the most taxing.

She was never fond of interacting with humans and when she had been told by her editor that she would be covering the evacuation convoys from the Temeril homeworld onboard the human cruiser “Queen Ann” she had rightly protested. Humans were known to be suspicious and untrusting of new comers and she had felt as much when she and her crew had first set foot on the ship as it escorted Temeril ships to their refugee locations.

The human’s never said anything openly to her or her team. They treated them with respect and answered all of the questions they were able to; yet there was always a lingering presence in the air that radiated off the general crew that Feneci couldn’t help but summarize to be a general disdain. To them this ship was their home and she was an outsider that had been forced upon them to raise awareness for the ongoing crisis. This feeling thankfully was not shared with the ship’s captain who Feneci had finally been able to secure an interview with.

“Welcome, Ms. Feneci.” An old human in a captain’s uniform stated as the bridge crew parted to let him through. Unlike the other humans he radiated no such ill intent and his smile appeared genuine. He held out a hand for Feneci who took it to shake in standard human greeting rituals.

“Captain Amar, thank you for sparing the time to meet with us.” Feneci replied. “I know you must have your hands full with the evacuation efforts.”

Captain Amar released his hand and straightened out his uniform before motioning Feneci and the camera crew to follow him to the captain’s chair. The chair was situated at the back of the bridge so that the captain could observe the on goings of his entire crew but not higher to give the impression he was lording over them.

“You give me too much praise.” Captain Amar replied as he sat down in his chair. Feneci sat opposite him as the camera feed went green to show the recording had begun. “The real praise should be given to the Temeril’s for organizing an evacuation so quickly.”

“There are those, including some within the Terran government itself, that have stated that the entire evacuation process is unnecessary; that the Temeril homeworld could have been saved had the adequate tectonic stabilizers been deployed.”

Feneci looked down at her data pad for the notes she had written for this interview. “They say the cost of the stabilizers would have been a fraction of what this fleet of ships is now running.”

Captain Amar rocked side to side in his chair as if debating internally how to respond to this statement. After a moment to collect his thoughts he replied. “It is not for me to question the policies of my government, but I can assure you that having seen the Temeril homeworld from orbit adding a few tectonic stabilizers would have only delayed the inevitable.”

“You are an expert in seismic theology?” Feneci countered, hoping to catch the captain in a trap of words.

“I’m afraid I never had time for such studies,” the captain admitted, “but from high orbit I saw a lake of fire the size of a continent appear in the span of three days; consuming everything it touched like a gapping maw of some great beast of old.”

The captain shook his head regretfully. “The Temeril homeworld would become their tomb had we not come to assist with the evacuation and soon to be relocation effort to a new homeworld once we have finished establishing a colony on Techlon V.”

Feneci waved her hand around the bridge. “Since when does evacuation and relocation efforts require military escorts?” She held out a pad for the captain to see. “By our recent count there are at least five military grade vessels in this convoy alone, including this ship we’re on right now which is a cruiser class no less.”

For the first time the captain looked uneasy. “We have received recent reports of marauders operating in the area; preying on isolated ships or small convoy’s to steal either their ships or the passengers onboard.”

This was an actual shock to Feneci. Not only had she not heard any of these reports before, but she was surprised that the human captain would reveal it so freely.

“Was this information made public to the Temeril’s?” she asked, to which the captain shook his head.

“At the time there was a concern that many would instead seek to remain on the planet when faced with the potential danger in space that the marauders posse.” Captain Amar admitted. “As such it was felt that only after the trip was underway would this information be released.”

“Do you have any idea how deceitful that is?” Feneci pressed. “You intentionally withheld vital information from these people!”

Before the captain could reply alarm bells rang out around the control room. Bridge crew that had been ideally listening to the exchange scattered back to their terminals and sounded off their findings.

“Unknown cluster of contacts approaching from the rear of the convoy,” the scanner officer sounded off, “twenty minutes until they’re on us.”

In a flash the captain was up from his chair while Feneci bade her camera crew to continue filming. This would only further highlight the mismanagement the humans had over the convoy as a result of her report.

“Unidentified vessels this is Captain Amar of the Terran Alliance,” Captain Amar stated with authority, “you are approaching a evacuation convoy from the planet Temeril under our protection; identify yourself.”

There was no reply save the resounding pings from the scanner terminal indicating the unknown ships location. The communication officer shook his head and looked back at his captain.

“Full spread across all channels.” Captain Amar stated and the communication officer replied in kind.

“I repeat, this is a Temeril evacuation fleet under the protection of the Terran Alliance; you will identify yourselves at once.”

Once more silence.

“They’ve increased speed, ten minutes to contact.” The scanner officer called out.

“Escorts two and three, break off from the convoy and intercept the approaching vessels; and send word to Terran command we will need reinforcements.” A tactical hologram appeared above the bridge showing not only the formation of ships in the convoy but the approaching craft as well. At the captain’s command the two mentioned escort vessels began pulling away and set course to meet the unknown vessels.

“Escort three is asking for permission to engage if provoked.” The communication officer called over his shoulder looking at Captain Amar. The captain paused to consider his next steps before replying “Permission to engage only if fired upon first; we don’t know if these are the raiders we heard about or some convoy ships that were late to the party.” The officer nodded and relayed the order to the escort ships.

Feneci watched as the two opposing forces drew closer until finally they were right on top of each other when suddenly the coms channels were alive with chatter.

“This is escort two, contacts are not friendly! I repeat, they are not frie-“

The transmission was cut off half way as Feneci watched the marker for the second escort ship vanish. Captain Amar slammed his fist into a nearby terminal leaving an indentation.

“Escort three break off and rejoin the Queen Ann;” Captain Amar barked, “escorts four and five form up on us as well. Keep them away from the convoy at all costs.”

This time Feneci felt the entire ship lurch beneath her feet as the engines powered on and the ship began to turn around. Another round of pings came from the scanner terminal.

“Another twelve contacts just appeared and they’re heading right for us.”

“Clever bastards.” Captain Amar remarked as he took up his command chair once more. “They sent a small force ahead to gauge our numbers. They must think we’re easy pickings if they’ve fully committed now.”

“How far until the convoy reaches the jump point?” the captain called to his scanning officer.

“They need thirty minutes to reach the edge of the system before they can make the jump.” was his answer. Feneci added the time in her head and the raider fleet would easily reach them before they could escape to the jump point. The convoy would either be captured or destroyed dealing a crippling blow to the Temeril people.

“Ms. Feneci, I believe you should make for the hangar bay, get on your shuttle and head back to the convoy at once.” Feneci turned to see Captain Amar addressing her directly. “I can no longer guarantee your safety and this ship is about to enter into combat; we will buy as much time for the convoy to escape.”

“You’re not seriously going to fight them are you?” Feneci found herself asking despite herself. From the tactical hologram it looked like a swarm of red angry dots was rushing them while a thin blue line of Terran ships stood between them and the convoy.

“We were entrusted with the safety of this convoy and the Terran Navy has never shirked its commitments before.”

With that the captain turned from the reporter to focus on the battle at hand while a pair of naval guards stepped forward to escort the crew to the hangar. The last sight Feneci had of the captain was of him directing targeting orders as the first barrages of incoming fire impacted the shields. -------------------

On this day during the stellar year of 2573, a small Terran fleet under the command of Captain Amar Jabal protected an evacuation convoy of defenseless Temeril’s from a horde of marauders.

Outnumbered three to one, Captain Amar did not hesitate to engage the enemy fleet to buy the fleeing Temeril’s enough time to escape the system safely. The battle was fierce and uncompromising as both sides dueled it out in the void of space with the brave human captain using every trick in his book to keep the enemy focused on him.

Moving his ships in close to threaten the enemy carriers, the vile fiends were forced to keep their fighter wings close at hand to defend their carrier ships rather than chase down the fleeing innocents.

When presented with the overwhelming power of his flagship, the cruiser “Queen Ann”, the raiders found that alone they could not pierce through the mighty shields of the vessel and were likewise pinned in place engaging it lest they be picked off one by one.

But as the battle unfolded the Terran fleet lost many of its ships as they heroically held the line until only the Queen Ann remained.

With her decks breached in a dozen places, weapon systems damaged beyond repair, and her communications cut from the rest of the rescue fleet that was already on their way at max jump speed; the Queen Ann defiantly rammed the enemy flagship and detonated her jump drive in a final act of defiance. The resulting explosion and shower of debris crippled the few marauders that remained leaving them unable to continue their barbarous hunt against the Temeril’s which had safely made it to their own jump points and fled the system.

When the Terran relief fleet finally arrived in system they found a dozen survivor pods from the Queen Ann that had jettisoned from the vessel moments before the captain had initiated the ramming maneuverer.

The surviving crew stated that the captain had ordered all hands to abandon ship and that he alone remained to initiate the final act against his enemies stating: “It has been an honor to serve alongside each and every one of you. You have done the Terran Navy proud, so hold your heads high in the days to come.

As for myself, it makes a poor captain that does not go down with their ship; and I will be damned if I let these bastards make my Ann into another trophy in their motley fleet of vagabonds and cowards.

Look for me on the horizon when you reach the solar seas of the afterlife.”

In honor of his sacrifice, it has been announced that the new Temeril colony known previously as “Techlon V” is to be renamed to “Amar Prime” and that the Temeril people have already put forward an application to join the Terran Alliance.

Reporting live from Amar Prime this is Feneci Jubal. -----------

[moonliched]

I just got around to reading the newest chapter and as I’m giddy as always about the celestial fish <3. I am also fighting for my life over here with the Eclipse crumbs :’)

I have a few questions, though, and a lot of thoughts (and feel free to just not answer them if it’s lore or gonna be revealed sometime).

1: Sun is using distinctly British English terms.... why? (Not a bad thing!! Just weird for me bc I hear it so much irl but have never actually seen someone write with it so it stood out more and I’m curious)

2: Is Y/N actually infected with something?? The weird glowing dust on their bed reminded me of like,, spores and the like. And follow up:

2.5: Chica scanning them “secretly”. Freddy and Chica seem to know a bit more than they’re letting on, and there’s been a lot of talk about sickness and infections (I think. If my terrible memory isn’t making stuff up again). Was Chica actually telling the truth about looking for a temperature and the lie was actually by omission (because she’s also looking for something more than that, but a temperature is just a symptom)?

3: Does Y/N have the same body temperature as a human, and if not, would Chica know that?

!!Rambling incoming!!

Related to the potential spores and possible illness, there are lots of things that need a higher temperature to start growing, and the base has been at Y/N’s preferred cooler temperatures for a while until the Glamrocks showed up. Also if their recent behaviour (poor sleep, anxiety, shorter temper(?)) can be attributed to some kind of infection, Vanessa seems to be suffering from that kind of stuff too. Maybe she has it??? Also also, something had to wipe out all the mers, and a dangerous illness that spread through them fast and was able to grow quicker in warmer waters, leaving only a few with a built up immunity, would’ve definitely been enough to reduce a population.

Sorry. I’m just loving this fic so much. It’s a lot of fun, and I really appreciate you taking the time to read this, and, if possible, respond :)

:))))))) i'm happy you're enjoying💗💗💗 [offers you a handful of celestial fish arranged like a bouquet]

1: i live in the UK lol so i guess that'll come across in my writing😋 i can't say much without getting into spoilers territory, but the main factors of Sun and Moon speaking 'ancient English' is that it's English from our time period-ish give or take several decades, and they have American accents. though i haven't stated either explicitly. so why not a little British vocab sprinkled in there?

2: Y/N is infected😣

2.5: yes, exactly! Chica likely would have tried to get more in-depth data on Y/N's health if she wasn't avoiding catching their attention at the time. she was trying to be sneaky... which didn't work

3: spoilers :3

ahskdjshjsdhjss kicks my feet☺️💕 LOVING the rambling and theorising, thank you for the thoughtful ask! i hope you enjoy everything else to come���

[luciluck2046-md]

Murder Drones: Glowing Future AU

5. MF get some therapy wtf

TW: Mentions of Suicide. Reader Discretion is advised

[...]

"And here's m-my bedroom. J and V still have to take their things, but th-the ceiling is all fr-free now-" I mumble, annoyed by the fact that I have to show HER the house.

|

"The fuck you mean ceiling?" Tessa asks me.

|

"I haven't sl-slept well so DO-DON'T ASK ME SHIT." I groan. This is only kinda true, I mean I did have the shittiest sleep of my life but I also don't want her in my house. Also N is still helping the girls with moving in at Lizzy's, so right now I'm alone. "Anyway if you nee-ed to sle-sleep, I'll give you a sleeping bag or someth-ething." I add, yawning.

|

"OHHHH DID YOU DESIGN THE DRESSER??" She asks me, admiring my closet.

|

"No..? Dad built ha-half of the things in this house and most of th-them suck. Except thi-things with fucking doors..." I mumble, sitting on my chair to finally move in the important data back to my pc from before the reboot I made two days ago.

|

"And interesting choice of... Liking." She says confused. "OHHH whatcha doing???" She asks me, looking at me loading different data.

|

"Unfucking the shit I fuc-fucked up." I roll over my eyes, while inserting the next USB stik.

|

"Думаю, стоит сказать, что я очень горжусь своей работой здесь. / 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎." Doll tells me. I groan.

|

"Tessa, do NOT op-open my closet." I say tired after I hear her slightly touch the doors. I didn't even turn to see her. I hear the door squeak as it opens slowly. "TESSA I FU-FUCKING WARNED YOU!" I yell, throwing a pen at her as I spin in my chair. She catches it right before it hits her screen-

|

"Come on, can't I explore a little?" I shake my head. I would literally kill her if N wasn't so attached to her. But if she does anything suspicious she's dead.

|

"I kno-know exactly where you are in my room de-despite not seeing you, so BEHAVE fo-for fuck's sake..." I mumble, turning back at my laptop. I know every single squeak my floor makes, so it's easy to detect her.

|

"Hiiiiii Uuuziii, hiiiiii Teeeeess!" N knocks on my door, opening it with a wide smile. I chuckle. He's so cute when he smiles...

|

"N, can you do anything about the fact that Uzi doesn't let me rummage through her closet?" Tessa asks just like a sibling would do.

|

"Even I can't go trough it, so I am sure I can't." He says confused. "What do you like at her closet so much?" He asks. I think about it.

|

"Yeah... Why ar-are you so interested in my dresse-ser?" I ask her.

|

"That thing seems filled with drawings and I NEED to know how they look." She responds amused. I'm pretty sure that's not the reason she wants to see my closet, but N is satisfied with her answer.

|

"Well Uzi puts my drawings in there... Actually can I show her my drawings!?" N asks me excited.

|

"Oh, yeah, just let me get them." I respond, smiling. I get up from my chair and open the closet to get N's drawings.

|

"Hey what are those about?" He asks me, pointing to some drawings on the top shelf.

... OH ROBO-GOD, OH SHIT, OH FUCKING SHIT. HE DOES NOT NEED TO SEE THOSE.

"UHHHHH SO-SOME OF MY RAMBLINGS!?!?" I try to find an excuse, picking the sheets and starting to crumple them up.

|

"Ohh, let me see!" Tessa says, pulling a drawing from my hands.

I try to get it back but there's no use. I cover my face embarrassed and get prepared to hear her shit.

"... GOD WTF, HOW OLD ARE YOU!?!?" She yells at me.

|

"Huh, what are those-" N asks, trying to see what Tessa's holding, but she hides it from him.

|

"NO!" We both yell, I embarrassed and Tess frightened. "Can you go outside for a second? I need to DISCUSS with this girl for a bit." She asks, making sweet eyes but with a very sarcastic voice. He goes out the door after saying "Alright" and I get prepared for the questions.

"I'm 18 so sh-shut up..." I mumble, answering her previous question.

|

"I am pretty sure those things were on that shelf for over 4 years, WHY WOULD YOU DRAW THAT!?!?" She yells at me.

|

"RO-ROBO-GOD, CAN'T A KID HAVE CRU-CRUSHES FOR FUCK'S SAKE?" I yell back at her. She slaps her face.

|

"... You drew some unorthodox shit. Some would even say catholic. WHO'S THAT GIRL!?" Tess yells again.

|

"I have the ri-right to remain sile-lent." I mumble embarrassed. I know who that girl is. And I'm trapped with her as a virus right now.

"ХАХАХАХАХА Я ТЕБЕ ДЕЙСТВИТЕЛЬНО ПОНРАВИЛСЯ? Я УЧИЛ, ЧТО ЭТО ШУТКА, ЭТО ТАК ХО��ОШО!!! / 𝙷𝙰𝙷𝙰𝙷𝙰𝙷𝙰𝙷𝙰 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙰𝙲𝚃𝚄𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚈 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴𝙳 𝙼𝙴? 𝙸 𝚃𝙰𝚄𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝙰 𝙹𝙾𝙺𝙴, 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃'𝚂 𝚂𝙾 𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙴!!!" Doll laughs in my head.

|

"Doll Please, Laugh Quieter." Cyn says from my tail. I groan LOUDLY.

|

"... Lesbian." Is all that Tessa tells me. I'm about to give her a godly ass beating if she doesn't shut her mouth.

|

"I'M BISE-SEXUAL, BITE ME!" I respond annoyed.

|

"Is everything alright in there?" N asks, slightly opening the door.

|

"Yeah, she's j-just being annoying..." I mumble, shutting the door to my closet so hard, that I'm sure that the drones in the other end of the bunker's hallway heard it. I also completely dematerialize the drawings that I crumpled in my hands some minutes ago.

|

"Girl, who hurt you?" Tessa asks annoyed.

|

"Shut. U-up." I say as I sit back to my laptop. "Say anything else a-and you're fucking dead-ad." I add. She is not a friend of mine so she CANNOT say or do anything that annoys me WITHOUT regretting.

𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂

My screen turns on in the dead of night. N is hanging from the feeling like usual, and Tessa is sleeping on the couch from the living room.

I groan. I used to get full 8 hours of sleep before I decided to build my railgun. Now I have to survive off oil and sleep, but at least now I don't need to charge anymore. I used to always get tangled in the wire. We're so lucky we can't choke...

As I am lost in my thoughts, I hear N whimper quietly, and I sit up on the edge of my bed to look at him. His screen turned on, and he's... Crying... Did a bad memory get to him..?

"N..? Come he-here, do you want to ta-talk?" I ask him worried. He nods his head, getting off the bar and sitting next to me.

|

"Please don't do anything dangerous..." He whimpers.

|

"Oh... N, I pro-promise you that I'll always be safe... As lo-long as it's okay for me to be safe!..." I try to reassure him, while not lying.

|

"No Uzi! I want you to stop sacrificing yourself for almost no reason... Please understand that!.." He whines.

|

"But if you die- Actu-tually I don't think you'd understand... Okay, I'll ke-keep myself safe, I promise." I try to explain to him, but I give up, hugging him. Lies sometimes are better. It's for his own good.

We sit in silence, hugging each other for a while. After about twelve minutes, N finally breaks the silence.

|

"Uzi... Do you trust Tess?" He asks me, still sad, but at least he's not crying.

|

"I would kill her if sh-she does anything to hurt you." I respond angered. I don't trust her. Too shady, too curious, too... Human like. I don't hate her, I despise her.

|

"... I don't think I trust her either..." He tells me.

|

"It's alright... I'll prot-rotect you. I promise." I respond, making another promise.

I will keep only one of those promises.

And it sure isn't the first one.

We sit on the edge of my bed, still hugging, for about half an hour. N yawns tired.

"Uzi..? Can I sleep with you this time?" He asks me, slightly embarrassed. I chuckle, nodding my head.

|

"Sure, the bed is big, you can sleep next to me!" I smile.

𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂

"OH MY ROBO-GOD, UZI FUCKING DOORMAN, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?!?" I wake up to mom yelling at me. I rise up on my bed, waiting for my vision to calibrate.

|

"... Wh-what happened?" I ask sleepy. Then I realize. N is still sleeping next to me. Actually wait, wasn't I hugging him while sleeping-

|

"DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM??" she keeps scolding me. N finally wakes up, I wonder how did it take him that long.

|

"Y-yes I MEAN NO, ONLY NEXT TO HI-HIM NOT WITH HIM-" I try to explain.

|

"Good morning Uzi! Good morning ma'am!" N says, unaware of what's going on right now.

|

"DID YOU SLEEP WITH MY DAUGHTER!?" Mom asks him, threatening him with a shoe.

|

"Huh? I just had a bad memory and Uzi comforted me, I wouldn't call that sleeping with her." He tells mom, actually explaining something.

Mom is speechless. I guess she wanted a reason for me to break up with him but now she sees that he doesn't deserve to break up with me.

|

"Weeell weeeeeeell, what do we got here?" Tessa comes in the room, acting all knowing and annoying. "Who has a crush on who?" She asks like we aren't just dating.

|

"... We've been officially dating for ab-about a week." I mumble tired. "Just when I finally get some sleep y'all wake me up..." I say, after a big yawn.

|

"YOU WHAT??? N YOU SMART MOTHERFUCKER!!!" She yells, hugging N in a proud sister like way.

I just realize that I want an older sister. Or sibling. I used to think about this all the time. Huh. Weird. She won't be my sister figure though.

"И вам доброе утро, почему вы все решили поорать в этот утренний час? / 𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚘, 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛?" Doll asks me annoyed.

|

"I don't know, I finally had over 6 hours of sleep and they decide to wake me up." I mumble in response. Mom is looking weird at me.

|

"Anyway, can I go ba-back to sleep?" I ask annoyed.

|

"You have to go to sch-" She tries to say but I will NOT let that slide.

|

"Uhem, this vir-virus is so bad it's actually fucking my circuits up. And I literally downloaded viruses th-that burn your processor to get rid of school. And they did almost no-nothing. I am NOT going to sch-school." I explain to her. Only I know how much I tried to download bad viruses only to see that I got the best antivirus. Ever. It's good most of the time but when I actually need it, it doesn't work.

|

"Alright, you can stay home. I'm going at Yeva's house again today, so be careful to not destroy the house." She tells me, leaving the room.

|

"... Can I go to school?" N asks me after she left.

|

"If yo-you want? You aren't tied to-to me." I respond amused. He eeks excited and he hugs me goodbye. "Have f-fun!" I tell him, and he leaves too.

Dad is gone at work, so right now only Tessa's here. I lie in my bed, face down in my pillow, and groan loudly.

"Alrighty, so care to explain how you two got together? I'm surprised he chose you out of all people." Tessa asks me, spinning on my chair.

|

"Same." I mumble. "Can you leave me alo-alone for FIVE FUCKING MI-MINUTES!?!?" I yell at her tired.

|

"Alright!" She answers, keeping her mouth shut.

...

Only for the next five minutes. That bitch.

"SOOOOOOOOOOOOO What do you think he likes about you?" She asks amused. I am sure she counted every single second.

|

"... I don't know-ow, don't ask me." I respond embarrassed. "I honestly don't see-see what he sees- WAIT ARE YOU TRYING TO GE-GET ME TO VENT!?" I yell at her, even more embarrassed.

|

"Maybe." She smirks. "What do you see in N?" She asks something else.

|

"A cute-te inocent boy with puppy personality. If any-anyone would hurt him, I would kill everyone in the room then my-myself." I mumble the last part.

|

"What would happen if you lost control over your body because of Cyn or... Whatever that virus is, it seems important." She asks me. I should have seen this coming, but this question really hit me in my weak spot.

|

"BITE ME" I yell at her.

.

..

...

"... I already tr-tryed to kill myself once because of this, and N is alr-already marked by this fact. Don't re-remind me about this event." I respond after a period of silence.

|

"I wonder, you don't seem that special." She chuckles. "He should have taken V, she's better." She adds.

|

"HE CHOSE ME-ME OVER HER SO SHUT-UT UP." I yell at her. She sounds just like my intrusive thoughts. I hide myself in the corner of my bed. "Just sh-shut up." I mumble, trying not to cry.

|

"But isn't it annoying to know that you could lose control at any moment? Isn't it painful to know that you could be alone again?" She keeps saying, with an evil smirk. I think she knows what she's doing, since I'm on the verge of tears.

|

"... Sh-shut up... Please..." I whimper.

It should be a nightmare, am I right? But wait... We can't dream. If this is a nightmare, this means that it's going to happen anyway.

"Bruh I don't want N to date someone with this little self respect. LEARN TO LOVE YOURSELF FOR FUCK'S SAKE." She yells at me, dropping the act. "I didn't want to get you crying, but come on. He ain't leaving you even if that means the death for him." She adds annoyed.

|

"... Wh-what was that..?" I ask trying to calm down.

|

"A TEST. You have so little self respect, and I am not letting N date someone this... This unaccepting of themselves. He clearly saw something in you so TRY to see it. At least thank me for telling you one of your problems." She explains bored. "Also go get some therapy, I haven't seen anyone else ever need it more than you do." She mumbles.

|

"... BITE-TE ME, I DON'T NEED THERAPY!" I yell at her. She raises an eyebrow.

|

"На самом деле, говоря, а не просто слушая, ��ам ДЕЙСТВИТЕЛЬНО НУЖНА терапия. / 𝙰𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝙳𝙾 𝙽𝙴𝙴𝙳 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚢." Doll gets in the discussion. I roll over my eyes.

I am still staying in the corner of my bed, leaning onto the corner of my room.

"Come on, go get your oil or whatever, I know y'all overheat very fast. I don't understand what was Cyn thinking." Tess tells me.

|

"One Word. Efficiency." Cyn responds annoyed. I don't see in any way how this is more efficient.

|

"Yesterday ev-evening I drank the last can, I have to go to re-refill at Doll's place." I mumble. Doll killed so many drones that her house is a very big oil supply.

|

"По крайней мере, поблагодарите меня, что я сохранил тела. / 𝙰𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜." Doll tells me annoyed. I roll over my eyes and I whisper a "thank you" while heading out the door.

"Do you want to co-come? Mom is still trying to find where Yeva's backup is. Since Doll's works, that me-means her should should work too." I ask her.

|

"Sure! Yeva was one of the best hacker's I've seen." She approves.

|

"Can you explain how the fu-fuck do you know every bit of mo-mom and Yeva's personal life?" I question her, kinda laughing.

We may actually get along one day... Though there are more chances for me to leave N than for us to be friends.

𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂

Prev | Next | Masterpost

Wait are those two actually getting along? NO FUCKING WAY!1!!!1!! It's so fucking insane!!! Anyway, nothing very bad happened this chapter, isn't it surprising?

...

Knowing my writing quirks, the next chapter will have a BIG depressing moment. Or maybe not ;)

[levi-venn]

The Short Answer First!

"How exactly did they get into the hands of hemlock?"

The Mirror Squads was put on ice during the Clone Wars after Headshot tried to start a rebellion inside the GAR. Hemlock scooped them up during the evacuation just before Rampart destroyed Tipoca City.

"What do they think of Omega or the Bad Batch themselves?"

A fic emerged out of this question focusing on one of my favorite Batchers and my favorite Mirror Squad soldier. 

If you (or anyone!) would like to see more "Broken Mirror" stories, let me know who you'd want to see next! I’m always happy to scribble these out (I’m in Editing Hell with the sequel to my shyRobot book and I need BREAKS!!)

------

Broken Mirrors: Circuit & Tech (cadet)

Tech was very impressed with himself for two reasons.

First Reason: This self-imposed recon mission went on for a whole month now, and Tech had yet to be detected by The Target.

Second Reason: Tech had successfully kept these recon missions a secret from his brothers. This was an astounding accomplishment considering Crosshair’s sobriquet for him was “Tech the Snitch”.

Tech had informed Crosshair that informing Hunter of potential problematic situations is not “snitching”. Crosshair responded by putting him in a headlock. 

Regardless, Tech would not snitch on The Target. At least, not until he understood what and who he was. 

As far as Tech could tell, The Target was a clone, and most certainly a defective one.

If this was the case, why was he kept separate from the rest of Tech’s batch? And why did Nala Se insist that after Memento’s passing, only four of his batch remained?

Until he could answer these questions, Tech would continue his recon mission. 

Using the ventilation shafts, Tech traversed over the Regs' bunks, the mess hall, and slid down several slanted shafts towards his favorite place in the whole facility: The Data Lake.

A cornucopia of knowledge. Shelves stuffed full of dusty tomes and between pristine holobooks, recycled air filled with the musty smell of history and aged flimsies, the soothing hum of low lights in the floors and distant roar of the ocean below.

And this is where Tech found The Target once again.

Crouching in his usual spot, safe in the shadows atop a shelf bare of any books, Tech was safe to observe the clone.

The clone was taller and lankier than an average Reg. His movements were quick and deliberate. Long fingers snatching books, light feet that hardly touched the ground as he moved from shelf to shelf. He was twitchy and erratic and noisy. His leg shook when he tried to sit. He hummed curiously when he seemed to find something pleasing in a book. He snarled suddenly as he'd throw a tome across the Data Lake's floor.

It was unclear if the clone was safe to approach.

And when the clone muttered to himself, occasionally letting out a brief, high-pitched laugh, or perhaps a choked sob.

Tech didn't intend to meet him anytime soon.

***

Circuit let out a pained laughed. 

The Data Lake was bone dry of the information he sought. A cruel irony that all he needed was something to help quiet his mind, focus himself inwards, give him a few moments of reliefs.

Every book suggested mediation, a warm glass of blue milk, a reflection inward. 

I am trapped within a body that won’t rest, in a mind that won’t hush. Silly books, I am very inward. Too inward. Please...please let me out...

He flung the holobook behind him and leapt to the next shelf, fingers gliding across each spine while his glowing red goggles scanned the titles, flashes of synopses whirring in front of his eyes far quicker than a Regs’ eyes could read.

The little one was here again tonight. Watching him. As if shadows could hide him from Circuit.

The cadet was clever enough to stay hidden, but brave enough to return to this place. The cadet had no idea how lucky he was that it was Circuit he found. Void or Striker would have eaten him alive...metaphorically...probably.

“You’ve been watching me.”

No reply.

Circuit looked up at the darkness where he knew the little one hid. Too scared or too smart to move. Circuit’s helmet and gloves were still on one of the study desks. He would not be a complete shadow…but still…

He fell back into the darkness between the high shelves, skittering around the room, letting the echoing acoustics of the Data Lake mask where he moved. Deftly he climbed the shelves, avoiding cones of illumination, skirting the cadet's line of sight until...

...he was just behind the cadet.

“There you are.”

The cadet yelped and spun, hand reaching for his hip where a blaster would have rested had he worn a belt tonight.

Circuit crouched like a gargoyle inches from the cadet’s face, studying him with unblinking brown eyes behind red lenses. The cadet's eyes were round eyes, magnified behind yellow-tinted goggles. He had a paler pigmentation than his own, lighter brown hair, thinner and straighter.  

But the same brown eyes. Same wild-eyed wonder in the face of Fear.

Fascinating...

He could see his own reflection in the boy’s goggles, the gaunt cheeks, square jaw, a ghost of a Reg.

A ghost of this boy perhaps? A living spectre? A preemptive haunt?

He let out a sudden, unhinged laugh that shattered like broken glass against the soft silence of the room.

The boy recoiled, clutching his legs.

“You’re not a Reg.”

Circuit’s lip curled. Crunch often complained his smile was menacing, but it couldn't be helped. Humor always pulled back his lips to bare his teeth. 

“And neither are you, little one.”

“You're a defective clone then.”

“Defective…” Circuit hadn’t slept in fifty-four hours and his neck felt rubbery, he let it roll around briefly before looking at the cadet again. Crunch once said he looked like a marionette with its strings cut.

He liked puppets. They felt...relatable.

He didn't fight his brain as it unraveled again...

“...Deficient, yes. Demonstrative and devilish. Defiant, but dependable. Demanding. Devastating. Dev...dev...Did you know that Devronian horns continue to grow post-mortem?”

The boy perked up suddenly. “I did know that. Did you know that in Devronian culture it's customary to mount their horns of the deceased's tombstone?”

“I did,” Circuit hunched like a gargoyle, his back arching in delight at this exchange. “Did you know that a Devronian soldier's tombstone is often comprised of common cement and the bone dust of their enemies?”

The boy cracked a smile. “No…no I did not. That is fascinating.” He paused then extended a hand “I’m Tech.”

Circuit regarded the hand. It was still shaking from fear...or adrenaline…or both.

“Circuit.”

He took Tech’s hand, but did not shake it. He simply held it and squeezed, willing it to stop trembling.

Stop shaking.

After fifty-four hours of no sleep, his own hand was shaking, too. On missions he took stimulants to calm it. Now...it just vibrated freely.

Tech seemed to notice this and he put a small hand over Circuit’s as if having the same thought.

Stop shaking.

The shaking stopped. Circuit felt...not calm...never calm...

...his shoulders sagged.

“What did they do to you?” Tech asked, quietly.

That question. Such a question. Where to begin? Where to end? When does it end?!

It was as if a hundred flies were plucking at the spiderweb inside his mind, calling attention to a hundred different scenarios, experiments, trials, tears, and terror, and please...make it stop...

He squeezed Tech’s hand tight and pushed through the Noise so he could speak. 

“They put Everything in my head.” Circuit laughed at the sudden thought of a Kaminoan scientist opening his head up like a pickled meiloorun jar and pouring an ocean of Thoughts inside.

“So much. Too much. All of it. It doesn’t stop. They made my mind exceptional. Then overclocked it to madness.”

He released Tech’s hand before he could accidentally crush it and sat down, drawing his knees to his chest. 

“I…” Tech’s words were slower than Circuit’s, methodical, and Circuit could see those bright brown eyes move rapidly as he absorbed the information he received. “...also have an exceptional mind. It processes information far faster than Regs and I am able to retain 99.88% of information provided to me.”

“How is the Noise?” Circuit asked.

“The what?”

Circuit tapped his temple with two fingers. “The Noise. The Thoughts. The Waterfall of Information that gushes so loud it roars in a silent room.”

“There’s…no noise.” Tech thinks for a moment. “Or…maybe I’m the Noise. My brothers say I talk too much and fill their head with useless facts. I talk a lot because there is a lot to say and…” Tech frowned a little. “...I can’t  help myself.”

Circuit tilted his head to the side. “Headshot says I should talk more. That all those thoughts fill my head like hot air in a balloon and one day I’ll pop.” Circuit’s voice cracked as he laughed. “But...I’ve already popped. I pop every day. Popopopoppoppoppoppop.”

Tech reached out and grabbed Circuit’s hand again and squeezed it hard. 

Circuit quieted. His head bowed.

“Will we join your squad?” Tech asked. "When we're older?"

“No.” More words bubbled in his head - Nononononono - but Tech’s firm grip anchored him.

“You sound very sure. How do you know?”

“Because we are the trial run, the first pancake, a sample size, and you and your brothers are the Real Batch. The Success. You’re flawed perfectly and we are perfectly flawed.” Circuit giggled, but he forgot what was funny. He sighed…he was tired… “My brothers don’t understand. Every exercise we complete, every mission we execute, every success and win are all for you. When they push us to our limits, that data is used to pull you up to your potential.”

Circuit looked at Tech and felt an odd sense of pride. “You are the Real Batch. We are just a mirror, trapped in a foggy mirror. A dull reflection to what you are and will become.”

Tech’s eyes dropped a moment, his pupils quivering slightly as he ingests what Circuit told him. 

“Did…Memento have a mirror?”

“Yes. His name is Void.”

“We lost Memento because of his defects.”

Circuit squeezed Tech’s hand only to find that Tech was clinging to him just as tightly. “I know you did, little one. I’m sorry.”

“It was predicted that he wouldn't live long past adolescence," Tech said, and Circuit was sure he heard a small sniffle, though no tears were perceived. "But thank you.” After a moment he asked. “Is Void healthy?”

Circuit’s laugh snapped like fire popper and it echoed through the Data Lake. “What is healthy to a defective clone?” His laugh quieted, shriveling into a weak sigh. “He is as broken as any of us, but he will live as long as we are allowed to survive.”

“Are you worried they’ll retire you?” Tech asked.  

Circuit shook his head. “We are useful still. They will stress test us until we die or until we are relocated for additional experimentation. My brothers want to believe we will be a part of the upcoming war, but…I believe our journey will end elsewhere.”

“Perhaps I can help,” Tech said. “You can meet my brothers. We can be one big squad.”

More pride gushed into his heart so suddenly Circuit wondered if it would burst from his chest, a fountain of blood and happiness. He suppressed another maniacal giggle. “That’s a nice thought, but we are not the main characters of this story, Tech. We crawl so you may run. It is how it is.”

“How long have you known about us?” Tech asked.

Circuit grinned. “Since you were a legume in a tube.”

Tech frowned. “Why have we never met?”

Circuit’s tired head rolled around again. “It is safer this way. We are not safe. You are not safe with us.”

“What do you mean?”

Circuit pulled his hand away to roll up his sleeves. He showed thick lines of scars overwritten by erratic, intricate artwork of vectors and circuits and formulas. Scars were overwritten by new ink, overlapped with newer scars and scratched over by even newer ink. “Saying that we are unstable is equivalent to saying the galaxy has a few stars in it.” 

Tech’s brown knitted upwards and he reached out to take Circuit’s hand again. Circuit fought his impulse and pulled farther away.

Safer. Better this way. For him. All of this is for him...

“Will you be here tomorrow?” Tech asked. 

Circuit should've said no. He should never return to the Data Lake, sever this connection before it got too strong.

Before I feel too Real.

“I will…If I am not sleeping.”

“Oh.”

Circuit sneered. “...that was a joke. I never sleep.”

“You’re...insomniacal?”

“An insomniac,” Circuit gently corrected.

“Ah of course. An insomniac. Did you know that Insomnia causes hallucinations?”

“Yes, are you a hallucination?”

Tech gave a short laugh and shook his head. “No.”

Circuit offered his hand for a final shake. Tech clutched his hand and squeezed it tightly. “I hope sleep finds you tonight.”

Circuit watched Tech slip back into the ventilation shafts, then he returned to his own brothers in a bunk at a safe distance from where the New Batch slumbered.

Instead of crawling into his own bed, he slithered into Crunch’s bunk. Crunch’s loud snores halted with a snort and he blinked sleepily at Circuit. 

“Wot?” Crunch asked.

“Hold hand,” Circuit demanded, plopping his pillow beside Crunch’s. Short words worked best with Crunch’s brain, a brain that was as loud as Circuit’s, though far thicker.

“Mmmph.” Crunch wrapped his large mitt around Circuit’s hand and squeezed to point it almost hurt. He then resumed his chest rattling snores.

The physical contact seemed to scare away the bothersome flies plucking at Circuit’s mind. In fact, the Noise was quieter than it had been since he was ripped from his birthing tube. 

He slept for two hours.

It was glorious.

[yumimak]

Anomaly- Chapter 1

Neteyam

Sky People.

The invasive species that have somehow found themselves on our planet, on our land, and even in our clan. 

I’ve known of these people my entire life. My own father used to be one of them and even one of my siblings' closest friends is one of them. The two scientists standing before me were even a part of the species.

Many people in our clan fear the sky people, only accepting Spider since he was raised among us. I can never say I have feared them though, my dad being the man who prevented that. But that does not mean I necessarily like the sky people, or want any more of them around than we already have.

My father feels the same way hence why his ears shoot up alertly when one of the human scientists mentions bringing two more sky people to their lab. 

Norm had been trying to convince my dad to meet with him for the past month. Seeing as he is very busy, making the time to be here had been very hard. Had he known what Norm and Max were going to ask he would have said no before even arriving, let alone drag Lo’ak and I along. 

I look over at my brother who stands on the opposing side of my dad, he looks annoyed as he brings his face mask up to his face to take a breath. I understand why though, I had been brought here to see how an Olo’eyktan would handle situations with the human scientists, but Lo’ak was here simply as punishment. He had stayed out past the eclipse and seeing as he hated meetings, my father made him join us here.

“You two really begged me here to ask a stupid ass question like that? No, you can not invite any more humans here,” my dad bluntly responds.

“Well they are not exactly humans per say,” Norm corrects. “They are more a mix between humans and na’vi.”

“Okay, so they are avatars? That doesn’t change my decision.” My dad moves to leave but the other scientist, Max, steps in front of his colleague.

“Jake, please fully hear us out.” 

My dad sighs before stepping slightly back, signifying he would hear them out. Max nods to Norm, signifying for him to continue. “Okay well,” Norm states, “These two, these siblings, are not avatars as you once were. They are quite literally a genetic mix of both humans and na’vi.”

Lo’ak and I give eachother an interesting look before my dad responds, “Norm, look, I understand how as a scientist you may find that interesting, but they were raised around humans and that mindset. How would we know that this isn’t just some plot to invade us?  Contact with that RDA base alone is so dangerous, Norm,  let alone bringing them to us, you know that. In fact, how do you know about them at all?”

“Well.. about five years-”

“Five years?!”

“Let him finish,” Max cuts my dad off. Only a few were bold enough to do so, but seeing as they were friends, my dad simply complied.

“About five years ago,” Norm resumes, “Our signal was interrupted by the RDA base.” Those words not only further peak my brother and I’s interest but also my fathers. Norm, Max, and the other human scientists here had apparently spent years perfecting their signal security to keep data away from the RDA. 

It had been strong, nobody had been able to get through it. Or, so we thought.

“I thought that was impossible,” my dad states.

“So did we,” Norm responds.

“But one of the two, the girl, was able to get through it like it was nothing,” Max adds. “Not to mention she was only thirteen at the time.”

“Although impressive,” my dad states, “I don’t see why this should make me welcome them here.”

“Well,” Norm starts again, “I had stayed in touch with her after that day. She was young and curious, but most importantly hated everything the RDA had been ingrained into their brains. I taught her about Pandora outside of what I knew the RDA had been saying to her. I taught her that the na’vi were not the ‘animalistic species’ that the humans wanted them to think they were.”

“That sounds great and all, but the clan is not a charity center. We can’t just take in random people because we feel bad.”

“Yes, I know that, Jake,” Norm says, frustration lightly dripping from his tongue. “But frankly I think it’s the least you could do.”

“Oh yeah, what have they done for me that should make me want to let them here?”

“Um, let’s think about how few raids you have had recently.. you think the RDA was just backing off? No, it was them cleverly sabotaging any plan they could have. Or how that girl has spent the past few years manipulating their experiments to avoid scientific developments that could lead to your demise. They risk themselves so often for people they have only heard of and they are only eighteen, Jake.”

“Not to mention all the things they must know,” Max cuts in. “All the info they must take in on the daily that you could benefit from in avoiding the RDA and their restriction. You need to think more strategically, man.”

I look up at my dad, he’s pondering their words yet his demeanor says no, it says that he will not back down on his initial answer.

“Come on, Jake,” Norm says. “These kids just want a normal life, one that they certainly won't get at that lab especially if they stay any longer. You know what it’s like being young and seeking a chance of actually making something of yourself. Don’t deprive them of that chance.”

Before my dad could make up his mind the distant sound of what seemed like the heavy front door shutting from somewhere else in the building sounds. There are two voices, one of a boy who is laughing, and the other of a girl which seems to be telling the boy to ‘shut the fuck up.’

The attention instantly falls back on the two scientists whose faces are both of guilt. “I know you did not bring them here anyway,” my dad mumbles in a mix of anger, annoyance, and just plain frustration.

“Well we thought that you were going to say yes and we just thought that this meeting was going to be three days ago which is how long their trip was,” Norm blurted out.

As the voices of the two get closer, my fathers lowers. “You two realize that as of now they have no set place to go? This was a dumb decision.”

“No, they can stay here until then, Jake, just please don’t push them away. Not yet, not until you’ve at least met them.”

“Fine,” my dad breathes out once more as our attention all draws to the door of the lab we were currently in as the voices draw nearer.

“It can’t possibly be that bad,” the boy laughs.

“Could you just shut up?” the girl asks in annoyance. “Where the hell is Norm?”

“LITTLE SCIENTIST FRIEND!!” the boy calls out. “WHERE ARE YOU?!” The sound of a slap echoes through the halls, “Owww.”

“Stop yelling, dumbass,” the girl mumbles.

My dad sends an unimpressed look to Norm who’s face reddens in embarrassment before he speaks up, “We’re in here!”

The directions of their  footsteps seem to change. “Who is ‘we?’” the girl asks as she slightly ducks to make it through the doorway. She pauses though when she sees my father, my brother and I.

Before she can say anything else though, a loud thud sounds from behind her. The boy, who seemed to not have noticed how low the door frames were, holds his head where he had harshly hit it. “Ah shit,” he mumbles, as he ducks to properly enter the lab.

The girl instantly breaks out into laughter, one hand covering her mouth and the other holding on her side. I think at that brief moment we all, excluding Norm and Max, noticed one defining trait of the two. They looked exactly the same, they were twins.

But of course other traits drew our attention, like the fact that despite their obviously human faces, they had tails and the boy had a que falling from the back of his head. Or the fact that they had the same striped marking as us, but instead of blue, their skin was that of a human shade. They had five fingers similarly to half of my family, but the same ears that all na’vi had. 

“Would you stop laughing?” the boy asks, his hand still holding his forehead in pain.

The girl still laughs as she mocks previous words that had been heard from down the hall, “Awh, come on. It can’t possibly be that bad.”

The boy grimaces at his twin while I take the chance to look up at my dad once again. His eyes were transfixed on the twins as I had, yet they had fully softened as the same realization that we all had set in.

They truly were just kids.

“Guys,” Norm says, drawing their attention back to our side of the room.

“Sorry,” the boy mumbles as he pulls his hand away from his face, although his eye still narrows from the pain in his head.

The girl still has a slight smile on her face though as the two of them make their way towards our side of the room. As they draw nearer I pick up on the fact that although they are significantly taller than Norm and Max, they are also much shorter than the average na’vi.

“What were you two fussing about in the hallway?” Max asks as the twins simultaneously reach behind them, in between their jacket and their back, removing a small handgun from their respective waist bands. As if heavily coordinated to move in sync, they both unload their guns, sliding the thing that holds the bullets into their left pocket and placing the guns on one of the tables near the entrance.

The boy answers when they finally join the group of us at the center of the lab, “She got hurt and has been complaining about it for the past five hours.”

We all look at the girl but she just grimaces up at her brother before sighing and looking at Norm. “I got stung by like three Zezi’,” she explains, her pronunciation of the na’vi insect rolling off her tongue almost perfectly.

Norm’s face turns into one of concern, “Can I see?”

The girl nods before letting her jacket fall off her shoulders. She wore one of those very small shirts that I've seen pictures of human women wear. With her jacket gone, the marks that scattered over her skin in the same way that bioluminescent marks would scatter over na’vi bodies were now visible. But instead of glowing, the majority of the marks were just a darker shade of her normal skin shade, humans call them freckles.

Besides her marks, the most obvious thing presented on her exposed torso were the three huge, red stings that had definitely been left by the Zezi’. Knowing how bad just one of those stings are; my dad, Lo’ak, and I all wince at even the sight of the three of them. The girl rolls her eyes at our reaction, mumbling, “You’re telling me.”

Norm nods over to one of the lab benches near us before going off to grab something, “Sit up there, I have something that will help.”

The girl moves to the table, her brother in tow. She hops up on to the table where he simply leans against it. Jake looks to Max, expecting something that he was not getting. “um,” Max stumbles out, “Why don’t you two introduce yourself to my good friend Jake.”

“The Olo’eyktan?” the boy asks.

“Mhmm,” Norm hums as he returns. He has a tiny jar in his hands, “he and his children are eager to meet you.”

The twins' eyes flicker to my father who was visibly frustrated. “He doesn’t look eager,” the girl states.

“What’s up with you?” the boy asks.

Norm sighs at their questioning as he opens the jar beside the girl. He removes a leaf that had been soaked in a medicine that my grandmother had made him to help with healing these wounds. “Well, I can’t say that I am excited to be welcoming you too.”

The girl rolled her eyes before mumbling to Norm, “You didn’t tell me he was so rude.”

“Y/n,” Norm warns her away from speaking ill of my father.

“What? I’m just saying tha- ah shit!” The girl, who’s apparently called ‘Y/n,’ sentence is cut short when Norm places the leaf against one of the stings. Her ears fold down and she squeezes her eyes shut. In contrast to her, the boy beside her ears shoots up in alertness as he seems to check on his sister.

“Sorry,” Norm mumbles. The girl brushes him off before she looks back to my dad, expecting him to finish explaining himself.

He does just that. “I am not excited because I had no clue you too were going to be here. Considering you guys are coming from our main enemy, I don’t think I can let you simply join our clan.”

The twins look at my dad as if they have seen a ghost, they are so distracted by his words that Y/n doesn't even seem to notice when  Norm placed another leaf, aside from her stifled inhale. “What do you mean you didn’t know?” the boy asks.

The girl looks at Norm, slightly pushing him away before he could place the last leaf. “I thought you said that he was okay with it.”

Norm’s face turns red in guilt, “Well I was expecting him to say yes sooner.” As he explains himself he places the last leaf. This time, when he places the leaf, the girl seems to express the pain by hitting Norm in the arm. “Oww,” he says, holding his arm. “What was that for?”

“For being an idiot! You really made Noah and I take that long ass trip without even knowing if he would let us stay or not?”

“I thought he was going to meet with me sooner. I thought that by the time he said yes you would have already been on your way here, my timing just didn’t work out. But, he’s at least thinking about it.”

Y/n looks to my dad hopefully. Norm looks to my dad with the same look, except his begs for my dad to lie for his own sake. Despite either look, my idiot of a brother decides to instigate, “He never said that.”

“Look, kid,” my dad says solemnly. “You have to understand it from my point of view. I am the leader of the clan and me allowing you too to simply join would not be smart on my part. You come from the people that threaten the existence of my very clan. Do you understand where I’m coming from?”

The boy's ears are flat against his head when he responds, “Yes.”

My dad looks at the girl next but she has somewhat of a defiant look etched onto her face. “Do you?” my dad questions again.

“Well, I do, but I don’t necessarily agree,” she responds. “I think your logic is flawed.”

With those simple words, the atmosphere shifts. Nobody challenged my dad ever; not on his plans, not on his logic. The only people who had a say were my mother and my grandmother. Definitely not the random girl that had randomly arrived here merely a few minutes ago.

“Y/n,” Max warns this time, taking a step closer to the two.

“No,” my dad says, putting a hand up before looking back at the girl. “What’s wrong with my logic?”

“Well,” the girl starts as she pulls her legs up onto the table and crosses them. “I totally understand you wanting to protect your people. There is nothing wrong with that, but I feel that if you push us away you’d only be harming the clan you’re trying so hard to protect. I mean, you haven’t even considered why we’re even here, because I assure you it’s not just for kicks and giggles.”

My dad sighs, “Why are you here?”

A smug smile covers her face, “I thought you’d never ask.”

“We’re here because we want to help you,” her brother cuts in, getting the conversation back on track.

“Why would I need help?” my dad asks.

“Maybe because the RDA is making plans that you’d most likely never see coming.”

“Plans that my brother and I are very much aware of,” Y/n starts back. “Even with future plans out of the picture, you’ve got to have noticed how little raids you have had. That was us. And in all honesty, if I wanted to bring harm to your people I could've drained every bit of info these scientists had when I had intercepted your lousy signal five years ago. But I didn’t, because I care about your land and your people. We both do. But with the way things are going now, even our attempts at holding them back are faltering. And us being there, with those scientists, will only progress the speed of their progress.”

“What plans?” my dad.

Her mouth almost turns down into a frown before she speaks again, “Well they no longer seek unobtainium as they used to. At this point they seek to make Pandora the new habitat for humans.”

“Which is why we even exist at the moment,” the boy adds.

“What?” Lo’ak asks a question that I know the three of us are all pondering.

“Okay,” the girl restarts. “At first the RDA seeked data and resources from the land. But seeing the downwards spiral that Earth is going through, they are now seeking to make Pandora the new Earth. They no longer want what you can give them, they want your people gone and for being’s like Noah and I to replace the na’vi, making it a new, human conquered and inhabited land.”

“So they’ve just thrown the whole Avatar Program out the window?” My dad asks, heavily hanging on to each of her words. 

“And what’s the difference between you two and an avatar?” I ask.

The girl looked between the two of us before answering my dad first, “Yes, they closed down the Avatar Program about three years after you left, Mr. Sully. And to answer your question,” she looks at me, “Avatar are simply bodies that inhabit the mind of a human. Noah and I are genetically bound to these bodies how you are to yours and how humans are to their original form without the Avatar.”

The girl lifts her five-fingered  hand, looking at it as she speaks, “Noah and I were born into these bodies.” She drops her hand before looking at my father, “After years of research they’ve found out how to create a perfect mix between na’vi and human traits. It’s a true and honest fact that should scare the shit out of you because if they are able to reproduce our DNA then they are just one step closer to replacing humankind with beings like us. And another step closer to getting rid of your people.”

There is a frighteningly still silence in the air as Noah speaks again, “Not to mention the specific vendetta that Quaritch has against you.”

“Oh yeah, that man hates your guts.”

The name shocks all of us, Lo’ak and I had only ever heard of it from stories of the war that was fought many years ago. We were told that he was dead though, the only living trace of him on this planet being his son Spider. My dads eyes narrow as he steps closer to them, “Where did you hear that name?!”

“Um, most recently..?”

“Probably, five days ago when he got mad at Y/n and I and we were called to his office.”

Y/n laughs as she looks over to her brother and further explains, “He was so pissed because we had missed our training and apparently it was ‘crucial for us to be there.’”

“Your impression of him is so bad,” he laughs.

“I’d like to see you do better.”

“Okay then,” he responds, accepting her challenge as he deepens his voice and mimics the man they speak of. “‘You too were supposed to be there, it was crucial-’”

“Enough!” My dad announces before their games can continue. Their ears drop as they look to my father, an almost fearful expression on each of their faces. Their scared expression dissolves when they turn and see it was just my dad. As if they expected the yell to have come from someone else. “This is not a game, it is not funny to joke about this. Quaritch is dead.”

The girl shakes her head, “The old white man you called ‘Quaritch’ may be dead, but his consciousness is most definitely alive and thriving.”

“They gave him an Avatar?” my dad asks in disbelief.

Noah nods, “Yep, he’s now a tall blue man with lots of guns and a bunch of other Avatars beneath him.”

“And all of them seek the destruction of you and everyone you love,” the girl finishes. Her eyes flickering over to Lo’ak and I, “Which seems to now include more than just Neytiri.” My dad’s jaw clenches yet his ears lower against his face. The twins have just brought all of my dads possible fears to life without even realizing it. Y/n notices this look, “But if you let us stay here a lot of this can be prevented. Recreating our DNA will be difficult if Noah and I aren’t there. And we swear to give you everything we know for the greater good of your clan. We just need you to promise that you’ll protect us in return.”

Her last sentence is one pack with longing. As if out of all the words she had spoken, those twelve words were the only ones that truly mattered to her.

My dad lets out a heavy sigh, “I can’t just let you in to the clan-”

The twins' ears drop and their mouths fall into deep frowns.

“-without speaking to Neytiri and Mo’at. It will take a lot of convincing, but if they say yes then I will allow it.”

They react twice as fast to those words, ears peeking up words and big smiles forming that allow their pointed canines to be revealed, “Really?!”

“Yes, it’s not a promise that they will say yes, but you can stay here even if they say no.”

Swinging tails show their excitement. “Thank you so much, sir,” the boy says.

My dad can’t fight his smile as he nods to the two before excusing us. They wave goodbye as we exit the lab, removing our masks and leaving the building. The second we are back outside, my fathers smile drops and he sighs.

“What’s wrong, dad?” Lo’ak asks.

“Nothing,” he responds, “It’s just..”

“You aren’t going to ask, mom?” I question, my stomach sinking at the idea of my father giving the twins false hope. “No, no. I will ask, I just.. I just fear they will say no.”

[kivaember]

ac6 drabbles: DILF

okay didn't write anything yesterday because i had a banging headache and felt pretty bad, but today i feel more refreshed! since i have a large pile of prompts, let's see...

okay gonna do "Also 621 calling Walter "daddy" because I'm a degen" from @arcticarthropod since i am also a degen.

If you wanna know how Walter's design is for my drabbles/stories, this is his design done by my good friend mango!

DILF

'Handler,' came the flat, dispassionate voice of a text-to-speech programme, 'I have a question.'

Walter looked up from his terminal, the screen which was a mess of various sensor readings, data compilations and geographical comparisons, to see C4-621 standing in the doorway of his office.

Wasn't a very impressive office - more like a shoebox with an uneven desk crammed in, the surface which supported an ancient terminal, a far more modern laptop, and various datapads that he had collected over the decades. Most of the floorspace in this repurposed building was set aside as the garage, tending to the far more important asset of their AC and its various support auxiliaries. There was also an administration area for the technicans to sleep in, and C4-621 had his own space to decompress in, but usually Walter was left alone in this little, out of the way shoebox of an office, and it was how he liked it.

Still, he encouraged C4-621 to approach him if he needed something, if only because his hound would literally just stand in a corner staring vacantly at the wall if left to his own devices for too long. Walter had long grown used to his hound approaching him at random hours requesting 'enrichment' or 'tasking', and as a result his drawer was full of miscellenous things that he'd hand over.

Last time he'd given him a ball of yarn Carla had, for unknown reasons, bundled in with their regular supply drop. Walter had handed the yarn over and told C4-621 to practice cat's cradle (after showing him what that was exactly) and hadn't seen him for an entire day. He'd actually ended up going to hunt for him, and found C4-621 sadly entangled in the yarn, giving him a woebegotten look at his 'failure' to 'achieve his assigned objective'.

"What is it, 621?" he asked, half-expecting it to be something either totally mundane or off-the-wall insane. There was no inbetween with C4-621.

'I was observing the technicians earlier,' C4-621 inputted into his communication device. 'They mentioned a term I didn't know, but when I asked them to clarify, they said to ask you.'

Off-the-wall insane, then. Those technicains were RaD men Carla had sent over on loan. No doubt they were sniggering away in the garage, slapping each other on the back, thinking of innocently oblivious C4-621 asking Walter something potentially obscene.

So, Walter drew in a deep breath and braced himself, asking tiredly: "What's the term?"

"D-I-L-F."

Walter briefly raised his gaze to the ceiling in exasperation.

"...it's not relevant for you to know, 621," he finally said. "Ignore it."

C4-621 didn't immediately respond. He didn't type anything, but neither did he move. Instead, he shuffled his weight slightly, turning his communication device over and over in his hands. Walter recognised the behaviour: C4-621 wanted to press the question, but his instilled obedience to a higher authority strangled his nerve. The fact he was so openly dithering, though, meant he was getting a little bolder. Before, when they first arrived on Rubicon, he would've simply nodded and dropped the whole thing immediately.

Walter stoically waited him out. He returned to his terminal and continued to work, and after ten minutes of C4-621 awkwardly hovering in the doorway, his hound spoke again: 'They asked if I thought you were a DILF.'

Of course they did.

'I said I wasn't sure of what that term was, and they said to ask you, but that it is normally considered a compliment. So I said, yes, I viewed you as a DILF.'

Of course he did.

"621," Walter said, almost helplessly. He looked at him, unable to get a read on C4-621's impregnable expression. "You shouldn't blindly agree to things, especially where Carla's men are concerned. I've told you this."

'Sorry,' C4-621 said. 'Did they trick me again?'

Well. Walter was sort of stuck here. He didn't want to explain what DILF was, because Walter had waded once into the topic of sex with C4-621 and it had been the most surreal conversation he had ever had (and increasingly drove his suspicions that C4-621 was either raised in an attic as a child or by alien wolves), but on the other, Walter just knew that C4-621 would immediately go back to those technicians and say "Handler wouldn't tell me :c" and who knew what nonsense they'd fill C4-621's head with.

He sighed, defeated.

"DILF means... 'daddy I'd like to fuck'," Walter said stonily. "They were asking if you thought I was sexually attractive, 621."

C4-621 did not look flustered or embarrassed or otherwise startled at this information. He absorbed it, applying its definition to memory, and stared intently at Walter in an evaluating manner.

Finally, he nodded.

'Then my opinion remains unchanged,' he said, and promptly left before Walter could even react to that.

A reaction that was just a blink and a blank stare at the now empty doorway. After a moment of dumb staring, however, Walter just shook his head and decided to chalk it up to C4-621 being... C4-621.

Who knew what went through the head of that hound of his...

[mayfast]

You don’t think there’s ANYTHING suspicious about a white Italian crying crocodile tears after 30 seconds in the ring with an African woman, the ring of course being the fucking OLYMPIC BOXING RING, which is meant for people who are actually capable of performing well in the sport they’re there to do?

Both of them are women, one is just apparently shit at the one thing she was there to do. Can’t take a hit? Don’t go into a sport where you’re gonna get hit, overwhelmingly in the face. Euros stay seething that they can’t own Africans anymore and have to make shit up.

Greetings,

First, I want to apologize in advance for any grammar or punctuation errors. English is my first language, but I’m dyslexic. Regardless, I will do my best to make this response readable. Secondly, I apologize for getting back to you so late. I visited my siblings and left my laptop at home, knowing that if I tried to respond via my phone, the quality would suffer greatly. Thirdly, thank you for genuinely asking me a question. Don’t get me wrong—I love a good death threat as much as the next person, and I’ve already received plenty of those. But I suppose the way I see it is this: if you disagree with me on a topic, having a screaming match on the level of a presidential debate isn’t going to help either of us. Besides, I like learning and changing. I’m human, and that’s kind of what we’re meant to do. Talk with me so I can see and learn. If you show me why I’m wrong and convince me, I’ll acknowledge it and say, "I was wrong with the information previously presented to me. Thank you for correcting me; I appreciate it." As petty as it sounds, I like being right—not in terms of "my opinion trumps yours," but in knowing I have the correct information and now understand the right thing to do or say. Make sense?

Next order of business: my perspective. Normally, I keep my nose out of political and social issues for several reasons. Firstly, I don’t typically have enough information to give an informed opinion. I don’t see why I should preach my views if I lack the data or experience in the subject matter. Instead, I prefer to listen and learn. Furthermore, I strongly believe in the cookie/diet analogy. Most of the internet is familiar with this analogy, but to reiterate: me being on a diet does not mean you cannot eat a cookie. Similarly, my beliefs should not dictate how you live your life. In simpler terms, I drink water and mind my business.

However, let's adjust the analogy a bit. (I use analogies a lot, and I acknowledge that they are not always perfect, but they help get my point across.) If my diet forbids me from consuming alcohol, it doesn’t mean you can’t drink. I even hope you enjoy it because you’re doing as you please and having a good time. But if you decide to drink and then drive, you are actively impeding on my right to be safe. As stated in Article 2 of the American Declaration of Rights: “Every human being has the right to life, liberty, and the security of his person.” Yes, I am American, so perhaps this analogy only applies to Americans. Again, a limitation of the analogy. In this case, I have enough reason to get involved. It’s not about you drinking or you driving separately; it’s about the intersection of the two. (Bet you didn’t think a dumb jock knew what that was, huh?)

For those who are younger or unfamiliar, intersectionality is “a metaphor for understanding the ways that multiple forms of inequality or disadvantage sometimes compound themselves and create obstacles that are often not understood among conventional ways of thinking.” Alternatively, intersectionality is “a sociological analytical framework for understanding how groups' and individuals' social and political identities result in unique combinations of discrimination and privilege.” Basically, when two identities (like race and gender) intersect, they create a unique perspective, thus an intersection. This concept was identified by Kimberlé Crenshaw, a civil rights advocate.

One of the first examples given to me about intersectionality involved a mechanic shop. In this shop, Black male mechanics did the physical labor, while white women worked as secretaries and in the office. A Black woman faced discrimination when she was unfairly turned away for a job. When she took her case to court, the company argued they were neither racist nor sexist because they hired both Black people and women. However, all the women in the office were white, and all the Black employees were male mechanics. It's a complex situation, right? I'm not sure of the specifics or the case name, but I believe it was real, and she ultimately won her case.

Anyway, what I’m saying is that I have a unique intersectionality that gives me specific experiences. In no way am I claiming my perspective is greater than anyone else's, but it is particularly relevant to the topic of trans women in sports and high testosterone performance. My point of view comes from my intersectional identity as an AFAB cis female, a mixed-race individual (Black, White, and Native American), a former Division 1 women’s athlete, and someone with a Master’s of Science in Biochemistry and Molecular Biology, along with other degrees in Biophysics, Biochemistry and Molecular Biology, and Psychology. I am currently deciding whether to pursue a PhD, a medical doctorate, or both.

Therefore, for anyone who thinks I am ignorant about the biological aspects of this issue, I urge you to reconsider. I was an accelerated student, graduated with departmental honors, and maintained a physically demanding job. If you have an issue with my presentation of biological and genetic information, please take it up with CHEA or the U.S. Department of Education for providing me with such "ludicrous" information and expecting me to look out for the health of the U.S. population.

Additionally, while on the topic of education and biology, one key concept was emphasized from the first day of schooling: gender is not sex, and sex is not gender. These are distinct topics. Sometimes sex aligns with gender, and other times it does not. Gender is more of a spectrum, which is fine by me. I know where I fall on that spectrum and am at peace with it. I do not claim to know what a woman is definitively. However, I have lived every day of my life—over two decades—as a woman. I may not encompass everything that the title "woman" entails, but I believe I can at least identify some aspects of what it means to be a woman. Wouldn’t it be silly to tell a woman that she has no idea what is included in the title of a woman?

I've scoured the internet and cannot, for the life of me, find the name of the process where you describe things around a concept to define it, despite not having an exact definition. I learned about this in philosophy; if someone could provide the term, that would be wonderful. For example, let’s say I am an elephant, and I see red and white stripes in the tent where I perform, smell peanuts, see the ring where I strike poses, the boss with his top hat to my left, the acrobats above me, and the clowns in front of me. I may not describe everything that constitutes this concept, but you can probably guess that the topic is a circus. The elephant may not be the entire circus, but it’s part of it and knows bits of it. Could you tell the elephant that it’s not describing parts of the circus correctly? I could say, “Elephant, you’re right that those are parts of the circus, but there are different angles to it as well.” Again, I’m aware that my analogies are not all-encompassing and fall short in some details.

So, while the exact definition of "woman" is ever-changing and based on societal, emotional, mental, and other criteria, I do not seek to define this term. It’s not my area of expertise, nor is it my concern. I know what I am, and I am content. I don’t place others in a box with me; I am happy in my own square. Instead, I stick to what I know: the facts and definitions of what a female is, which are based on biology—facts that have been studied with hard data for me to analyze.

Before I continue, I want to reiterate that I am a "cookie/diet" person. Everyone has the right to life, liberty, security, and the pursuit of happiness. I could never hate a stranger I’ve never met. I believe everyone, regardless of race, gender, identity, sexual preference, age, or other parameters, should have peace and public respect. No one should be actively threatened for their opinions within the boundaries of universal truths. For example, if you think someone should die for their sexual preference (excluding minors, as I do not tolerate pedophilia and believe it is something a person must address immediately), skin color, or religious belief/spirituality, that is an infringement on another person’s safety. With that said, I think transgender, nonbinary, and queer individuals should live their lives to the fullest. They are people too, just like anyone else, including me.

Back to my original topic: I can define a biological female in terms of biology. A female is one denoting the sex that can bear offspring or produce eggs, distinguished biologically by the production of gametes (ova). (Note: not all females are naturally fertile due to genetic variations.) Biological sex is an assigned label given at birth based on medical factors, including hormones, chromosomes, and genitals. These are measurable factors assigned at birth. Hence, terms such as AFAB (Assigned Female At Birth) and AMAB (Assigned Male At Birth) help medical providers give their patients the best treatment and diagnosis regardless of gender. Because, again, sex is not gender, and gender is not sex.

It is also significant to mention that the medical factors assigned at birth are not limited to genitals. This is important because, although rare, intersex persons are real. They exist. One of the things that used to irritate me during my undergraduate and high school years was that medical professionals knew of intersex persons, but they never had a significant amount of data on them to establish the medical boundaries of what could be classified as “normal” for them. It’s like knowing dragons exist but not being able to tell you more about them—like Hiccup with the Night Fury page in the first movie. Moreover, individuals with mixed chromosomes also occur, such as those with 25% XY and 75% XX. Even if their sex presents in a binary fashion, their DNA may be ‘abnormal,’ and they may categorize themselves however they please. I use the word 'abnormal' in a scientific manner, not as a slander, but merely because it literally translates as 'not normal.' One of the genes that defines sex presentation is the SRY gene (7).

If I harp on about DNA, I apologize, but as someone who has spent so much of her life studying this specific detail of human anatomy, I can't help but carry on. I have asked a few of my colleagues with PhDs and specialties in hormone activity, mainly about regulation, because I wish to be well-informed. At a basic level, everyone understands genetic variances and that traditional male and female individuals have different chromosomes—XY and XX, respectively. Otherwise, the genome is mostly identical, with differences in SNPs (single nucleotide polymorphisms) and epigenetics (the regulation of genes typically found in the non-coding regions of DNA). DNA influences the production of chemical structures found naturally in the body, including steroids.

I'm sure most people are familiar with steroids, whether from a "don't do drugs" perspective or in the context of cholesterol. Either way, your body produces various forms of natural steroids to help regulate biochemical pathways. The interesting part is that everyone's body produces all of the necessary steroids (at least every healthy body), just in varying amounts. If you notice that these steroids are similar looking, you're right. This similarity helps us classify them and understand their behavior. They are derivatives of each other, but their varying side chains allow them to bind to specific receptors.

Granted, 'binding' is a loose term because, due to Brownian motion and other physical laws, most molecules just float around. Binding depends on various factors such as the shape of the molecules and the energy of their interactions. Additionally, protein turnover rates (which may not directly be the steroid hormones, but affect growth hormones via the Hypothalamic-Pituitary-Adrenal [HPA] Axis, Hypothalamic-Pituitary-Gonadal [HPG] Axis, Insulin-like Growth Factor 1 [IGF-1] Pathway, Steroid Hormone Receptor Signaling, including the ER and AR pathway, and Cytokine and Growth Factor Pathways), which refer to the rate at which proteins are synthesized and degraded, can influence the availability of proteins for binding, though they are not directly related to binding specificity itself. Binding specificity relies more on the geometry and chemical groups themselves. (Long story short, molecules can float into a receptor, but they rarely stick around long enough for a reaction to occur unless it is the correct compound.)

Androgens are hormones that contribute to male traits and reproductive activities, although they are also present in females in smaller amounts. The main androgens include:

Testosterone: The most well-known androgen, produced primarily in the testes of males and in smaller amounts by the ovaries in females.

Dihydrotestosterone (DHT): A more potent androgen derived from testosterone.

Androstenedione: A precursor to both testosterone and estrogens, produced in the adrenal glands and gonads.

Androgens are responsible for male characteristics such as facial hair, a deep voice, and increased muscle mass. They also play a role in libido, bone density, and overall health in both males and females (8).

Estrogens are hormones crucial for the development and regulation of the female reproductive system and secondary sexual characteristics. They are present in both males and females but are typically found at higher levels in females. Key types of estrogens include:

Estradiol (E2): The most potent and predominant estrogen during the reproductive years.

Estrone (E1): The primary form of estrogen produced after menopause.

Estriol (E3): The weakest form, mainly produced during pregnancy.

Both androgens and estrogens are essential for maintaining a healthy and functioning body, though they operate in different amounts and have distinct functions in males and females. While individual hormone levels can vary due to genetic differences, standard distributions are often used to represent general populations. It’s important to note that athletes, for example, may fall outside these standard distributions in areas like skill levels and genetic traits such as height. Hormone levels also vary depending on the specific aspect being examined, and studies have established typical ranges for these hormones.

Estradiol (E2) is the estrogen most involved in muscle health and building in women. It plays a key role in muscle growth and maintenance by enhancing muscle protein synthesis and influencing muscle mass, especially during periods of hormonal change like menopause. I found this straightforward information on a website, but I’m hesitant to cite this since it doesn’t come from a formal medical paper or research journal.

Results are given in picograms per milliliter (pg/mL). Normal levels for estradiol (E2) are:

30 to 400 pg/mL for premenopausal women

0 to 30 pg/mL for postmenopausal women

10 to 50 pg/mL for men

While these values provide a general reference, I would not rely solely on this information without formal publication backing. For more reliable data, Frederiksen et al. have a formal publication that aligns with these numbers (1). However, it's worth noting that their research was published around 2019-2020, and the publication process can sometimes extend over several months. Additionally, the E2 levels measured in these studies refer to blood serum. Since estrogens and testosterone are also present in other tissues, such as muscle and genital tissues, these values should be interpreted with some caution.

Moving on to testosterone, here are the normal measurements according to a straightforward website I found (uncited here since it’s not from a medical or research journal):

Male: 300 to 1,000 nanograms per deciliter (ng/dL) or 10 to 35 nanomoles per liter (nmol/L)

Female: 15 to 70 ng/dL or 0.5 to 2.4 nmol/L

Fortunately, I found research that supports these values. For example, a study by S. L. Davison et al. measured androgen levels in 1,423 cis-women of varying ages, excluding those at the extremes of the distribution curve to minimize misjudgment (2). Their findings align well with the cited measurements of blood serum testosterone and provide additional details, such as measurement averages, ranges, and a box-and-whisker plot for various androgens. Their comprehensive analysis is quite impressive.

However, it is worth noting that Davison’s study is considered relatively old by research standards, having been published in 2005. Further supporting evidence can be found in research by Zitzmann et al., which also aligns with the previously mentioned male normal ranges (3). Additionally, Mohr et al. conducted a separate study on males that supports these general numbers (4). It should be noted that Mohr's study did not include men under 40 years of age, which may limit its applicability to younger populations.

Besides this point, what practical usage does this information have? These are just ranges of sex-specific hormones. However, when diving deeper into the performance enhancement effects of these hormones, particularly testosterone, we find a plethora of research dedicated to understanding its impact on athletic performance.

Testosterone affects physical abilities, with one of the main differences being height. For instance, Schappi (11) found that "women were, on average, 166.2 cm (SD 6.5) tall and men 179.2 cm (SD 6.5)." While this study was limited to a population in Geneva, its findings are consistent with data from Medical News Today and Our World in Data, both of which conclude that males are roughly 12-13 cm taller than females on average. Interestingly, this 13 cm difference is two standard deviations outside of the female average. Additionally, a person's wingspan is typically equal to their height, meaning that males not only have a height advantage but also a reach advantage when extending their arms overhead. However, height isn't everything; in some sports, like diving or gymnastics, excessive height can be detrimental.

Still not convinced? Let's talk about strength. Although this study is old, it highlights a well-documented difference. Bishop, Curton, and Collins found that "percentage mean differences in absolute strength between males and females of each group ranged from 75% to 173% for the curl and bench press strength measures, whereas differences for the lower-body strength measures were smaller, ranging from 20% to 64%" (12). This indicates that males are distinctly stronger in the upper body and only partially stronger in the lower body. It's important to note that these data reflect both non-athletes and collegiate swimming athletes, meaning the height categories align well with our previous discussion.

Now, let's touch on VO2 max, an important measure in endurance sports like running, where muscle mass and height may not play as significant a role. Recall the SRY gene I mentioned earlier, which is involved in the differentiation of male and female reproductive tissues. During the first six weeks of development, the reproductive tissues of males and females are identical. Around week seven in utero, the SRY (sex-related gene on the Y chromosome) initiates the development of the testes. In the absence of a Y chromosome and the SRY gene, ovaries develop instead. Fetal ovaries do not produce adequate amounts of testosterone, so the Wolffian ducts do not develop. Additionally, the absence of Müllerian Inhibiting Substance (MIS) leads to the development of the Müllerian ducts and female reproductive structures.

Testosterone also stimulates erythropoiesis, which results in a higher hematocrit (the proportion of blood volume occupied by red blood cells) in males compared to females (13). Erythropoiesis, the production of red blood cells (RBCs), plays a crucial role in determining VO2 max because RBCs are responsible for carrying oxygen from the lungs to the muscles during exercise. RBCs contain hemoglobin, a quaternary structured protein that binds to oxygen in the lungs and carries it through the bloodstream to the muscles and other tissues. The more RBCs you have, the more oxygen can, in theory, be transported to your muscles. During exercise, your muscles require more oxygen to produce energy. RBCs deliver this oxygen efficiently, enabling your muscles to sustain activity. VO2 max measures the maximum amount of oxygen your body can use during intense exercise (14). Since RBCs are responsible for delivering oxygen, the number and efficiency of RBCs directly influence your VO2 max. A higher RBC count generally means more oxygen can be delivered, potentially increasing your VO2 max.

In the past, some athletes have tried to enhance their performance by increasing their RBC count through methods like blood doping or using erythropoietin (EPO), a hormone that stimulates RBC production (14). Others prefer altitude training to stimulate the same effect. At higher altitudes, the body responds to lower oxygen levels by producing more RBCs to improve oxygen delivery. This adaptation can lead to an increase in VO2 max when the athlete returns to lower altitudes.

What’s the point of all this research? These numbers represent facts that were measured and observed. While research is ever-changing, these findings were scientifically validated at the time the data was collected. Is it the same today? Maybe, but that's why new research is always conducted—to update and refine our understanding of the facts.

So, if we establish that there are differences in testosterone levels, why is this important? Recently, while traveling, I met a young man named L. We began by discussing his interesting keychain, and our conversation soon expanded to broader topics. Eventually, we touched on my experiences and perspectives on a contentious issue I had been involved in on Tumblr. I shared my background with L and asked for his views.

L, who had no previous experience in sports but expressed a desire to participate, and I both developed similar theories on how to make sports more inclusive without the need to define categories such as "woman" or "man" or to address issues like non-binary participation. We proposed eliminating gender classifications altogether and instead focusing on identifying the 'strongest' or 'best' athletes based purely on performance.

I mentioned that increased muscle building due to androgen effects (as previously explained) would naturally favor individuals with XY chromosomes in muscle-reliant sports. Eliminating gendered sports entirely might render Title IX ineffective, which serves as a protective measure for sex equity in athletics, as well as the amendments to protect gender identity and sexual orientation. However, I will discuss my concerns with Title IX's clumping of these categories later.

L suggested exploring sports events that are more sex-specific, such as gymnastics, where events are designed to accommodate general differences in the center of gravity. He proposed categorizing events based on the center of gravity or allowing athletes to choose from a limited number of events (e.g., four out of eight). L also suggested that weightlifting could be divided into weight classes to ensure fairness.

Overall, L's ideas were creative and thought-provoking, offering innovative ways to address fairness and inclusivity in sports. However...

I want to clarify that my comments about L are not meant to be critical of him personally. L has never participated in competitive sports, so his ideas about sports regulation are not informed by personal experience. For instance, Olympic weightlifting already uses weight classes for both males and females, making L’s suggestion to split events by weight class not a new concept.

To use an analogy (and I apologize in advance for this), if I were a programmer with no background in art, I might develop a program that generates artwork. While I could claim to have created art through the program, it would not make me an artist in the traditional sense, nor would it make my program the originator of any art movements. This comparison highlights that expertise in one field does not automatically translate to expertise in another. Artists of Tumblr, I am sorry I used your craft in vain, but I’m trying to make a point.

With this in mind, I asked L whether my viewpoints made me an "asshole" or a "transphobe." I strive for self-awareness and constantly reassess my perspectives to ensure they are fair and respectful. L, a fan of philosophy, reassured me that my views, while not aligned with his own, did not reflect poorly on my character. He appreciated that I had well-reasoned arguments and was open to discussing and understanding different perspectives. L valued my willingness to engage in dialogue and my intention to support an institution that is important to me while respecting others.

Thank you, L, for your thoughtful feedback and for contributing to a constructive discussion.

Shifting focus away from DNA-related topics, I'd like to discuss another area relevant to my perspective: college sports. College athletics vary in competitiveness and rewards and are governed primarily by two bodies: the National Association of Intercollegiate Athletics (NAIA) and the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA).

The NAIA generally aligns with the competitive levels of NCAA Division 2 and Division 3, with Division 2 being more competitive than Division 3. NCAA Division 1 represents the highest level of competition, with the most demanding physical and legal requirements. Notably, Division 1 athletes often face legal issues related to the intense demands placed on them by coaches, including overworking that affects their academic performance and personal well-being.

For instance, Division 1 athletes frequently deal with legal contracts that dictate their commitment levels, including the number of hours they can be required to train during the offseason and academic breaks. These contracts, often presented as voluntary, are perceived more as mandatory. Athletes are expected to sign them, and while participation in collegiate athletics is a choice, the reality often feels like being caught between economic or physical hardship. With student debt already so high, the stakes are incredibly high for student-athletes.

I also want to touch on something that came up in a Tumblr discussion. I expressed my concerns that men might enter women’s events not out of genuine reasons but rather for athletic achievement. I was told I seemed paranoid and somewhat transphobic for thinking this way, but let me share a personal insight: very few people truly understand what it’s like to be a college athlete. I'll discuss the actual numbers later, but once you sign that contract, you lose a lot of autonomy over your own life.

Before college, I had a healthy body and made my own choices. But once under the coaching staff's control, they dictated everything—my weight, sleep schedule, dietary habits, and even how much sun I got. I had no say in these decisions; it was all up to them. Any college athlete would tell you the same.

Given the differences in hormones, genetics, and epigenetics that I’ve discussed earlier, a coach’s main goal is to win, often by any means necessary within legal boundaries. Transitioning is not off the table. The athlete’s role is to comply with the coach's demands or face the possibility of being released from the team. If you think I’m being dramatic, consider the media’s sexualization of college athletes. Some coaches will have their women drop to dangerous weights to gain attention from the male audience. You should probably look into Tennessee’s women’s teams. I’ve seen coaches who, desperate to turn around a losing streak to keep their jobs, might consider extreme measures, and since the legal case of Lia Thomas was won by her, this would not exclude pushing athletes to transition. Coaches have been known to dope athletes without their consent, track their location illegally, and manipulate their academic schedules to benefit their athletic careers. The latter happens far too often. But an athlete cannot argue—it’s so easy for the school to find a way to make you ineligible. With a long line of people happy to take your scholarship, you sit down and shut up.

How do I know? I was there. I’ve seen the situations that have happened. Very few of you have the same insight.

I bring up my experience as a student-athlete because I’ve faced the reality where a poor performance could jeopardize one’s ability to afford an education. You might wonder, "So what if you get cut from the team? You can just take out a loan or get an academic scholarship like anyone else." As I mentioned earlier, I was an accelerated student, which meant I qualified for significant academic scholarships—hundreds of thousands of dollars that would have covered tuition, board, housing, and more. If I had taken the academic scholarship, it would have deprived someone else who genuinely needed it. That would have been silly, especially since I had other means to fund my education.

Contrary to media portrayals, most athletes aren’t as academically challenged as they might seem. To participate in high school and collegiate sports, you must maintain a minimum GPA. And while sports outside the major men’s sports—like football, basketball, and baseball—don't offer much financial reward, the reality is frankly more stark from an insider’s perspective. For instance, Caitlin Clark, despite being a top draft pick, earns significantly less than a male athlete in a comparable position. This disparity is something most athletes are acutely aware of.

In many countries, sports like golf or tennis might offer better financial prospects, which could explain why over 60% of NCAA tennis players are international. The point I’m making is that many student-athletes pursue sports to avoid college debt. At least 90% of my teammates were in the same situation, with many majoring in pre-med or health-related fields. It’s almost like understanding the body’s functions can indeed enhance performance.

Sorry for the snark, but this is something that has bothered me throughout my college years. The persistent stereotype of college athletes has been evident from the moment I met my academic peers. Being unfairly judged and excluded based on preconceived notions about my extracurricular activities has been frustrating. I made it a point to excel academically, partly in response to this bias. Contrary to what some may believe, athletics often integrates cutting-edge research. For example, many training programs are designed to align with circadian rhythms—lifting in the morning when testosterone levels are highest and practicing in the afternoon when coordination and reaction times are optimized. It’s about applying principles of biochemistry and biophysics to enhance performance.

I want to discuss being a college athlete for another important reason. It seems reasonable to address the issue of lawmakers and other individuals making decisions about areas where they lack firsthand experience. Take, for example, women’s reproductive health and abortion. It’s a well-known issue where decisions are often made by those who don’t experience the consequences firsthand. Similarly, when it comes to transgender athletes in sports, the situation is analogous.

To illustrate, let’s look at some statistics. According to the NCAA, in the 2021-2022 year, there were over 520,000 collegiate athletes. This number is consistent with this link's  reports from the NCAA and NAIA combined. In high school, there were approximately 3,850,771 male athletes and 2,954,034 female athletes. It’s important to note that these figures might include multiple team members and varying grade levels, and some high school athletes participate in multiple sports.

The likelihood of playing at any collegiate level, not just Division 1, is much lower, with about 298,424 male athletes and 239,611 female athletes making the cut. This translates to approximately 7.74% of high school males and 8.11% of high school females having the opportunity to offer an informed opinion on this matter. According to theKids Count Data Center, in 2021, there were 258,418,544 people over the age of 18. This means that for every college athlete, there are roughly 500 individuals who can impact their experience.

This approach highlights an important issue: ensuring equality for nonbinary athletes. They deserve the opportunity to showcase their talents and pursue college sports without facing prejudice or having to conform to the standards set for men’s or women’s teams.

One key aspect of Title IX that many people may not be aware of is that college sports programs must reflect the sex distribution of the student body. When there is a significant imbalance in sex representation—such as more females than males at a school—the ratio of sports scholarships and teams must be adjusted accordingly. As a result, many universities are now adding more female teams to meet these requirements, rather than cutting male programs, which often generate more funding. Interestingly enough, I find it odd that the sex ratio is what influences gender opportunities in athletics, because as we’ve learned, sex is not gender and gender is not sex. Why does sex ratios influence gendered sports?

I propose creating a nonbinary category in sports, with Title IX regulations adjusted to reflect this inclusion. This would ensure that schools offer fully funded nonbinary athletics teams with the same benefits as traditional teams, including scholarships, housing, media coverage, and outreach programs. This way, a trans woman or gender-fluid athlete would not face issues related to hormonal treatments or eligibility, as they would have a designated team that understands their unique challenges. By doing so, we can provide a supportive environment where nonbinary athletes can thrive and connect with teammates who share similar experiences.

If I didn’t care about the well-being of nonconforming genders, I wouldn’t have invested hours researching NCAA guidelines and the CFR to develop solutions. I’m committed to finding resolutions rather than merely voicing complaints.

Now, you might be wondering if I’m advocating for a "separate but equal" approach. Let me clarify: as a Black woman in sports, I’ve experienced firsthand the disparities in treatment and opportunities. Women’s sports often receive far less attention and funding compared to men’s sports. The funding for most college sports programs primarily comes from men’s teams—football, baseball, and men’s basketball being major examples. Additionally, women’s games are frequently scheduled at inconvenient times, like mid-day on a Tuesday, while men’s games are typically held on Friday evenings, attracting more viewers and creating fewer conflicts with academic commitments.

Despite my frustrations, I was thrilled to see the South Carolina vs. Iowa women’s basketball game in 2024 become one of the most-watched college basketball games in ESPN’s history. It felt like a long-awaited recognition for women’s athletics. While the 9.9 million views from the previous year were a notable achievement, it’s clear that women’s sports still have a long way to go in terms of equality and visibility. I’m getting beside the point. Those who would argue that sports are completely based on being unequal, that there are those who are genetically taller or stronger than others, make the point of regulation seem completely unjust.

I assume everyone here is familiar with the standard distribution curve, or the normal z-distribution, which is based on deviation away from the ‘normal.’ Athletics can be understood within this framework. With the Olympics at the very right side of the curve, the top 0.1% of their sport. Top-performing college athletes are well beyond three deviations from the mean. In fact, they are so far above the curve that they are considered outliers. If we examine the case of Lia Thomas, I ran the numbers, comparing her swim performance to the previous top three medalists of the 500-meter freestyle for the 2016-2024 seasons. Lia almost fell perfectly on the mean for the top three medalists, even landing slightly higher within the first deviation of the previous gold medalists within the past eight years.

A "freak of nature" would fall into the +2 or +3 categories. This is also what helps tip off the NCAA about drug enhancement usage. Again, what really threw most of the nation off about Lia Thomas was that she won in her first year in the women’s category. But what fails to be recognized is that her numbers were in the normal range for winning. Granted, this led to other speculations about her being ‘too perfect’ in the category of normal, but that’s not the point nor does it have any data relevance. She did lose a valuable 15 seconds from her personal best after undergoing hormone therapy. I won’t call Lia, when she swam in the men’s category, a bad or prime athlete. Lia, like many athletes affected by COVID, had an extra year to compete, which happened to be her last year of collegiate athletics. Looking at Lia’s numbers and rank alone is not a good indicator of her potential as a swimmer. Lia was always a good swimmer in longer-distance freestyle, even before she transitioned. Looking at Lia’s ranking as a sophomore pre-transition, she was ranked 65th among males for the 200 free that season. For a sophomore, that is not bad at all. I personally ranked a bit higher my sophomore year, but there’s always the number of people in your sport to take into account. I would estimate that if Lia had continued to swim with the males without hormone therapy, she most likely would have been on the national podium nonetheless. What irks me is the lack of data that I can find on Lia’s junior season when she was undergoing hormone therapy while competing in the male category. I know many statements place Lia as ‘bouncing’ from a low-ranking male to a top-ranking female, but I don’t believe that is the case. If someone could point me to the data set, I would love to examine it. Regardless, Lia’s lower rank in her junior year would be explained by the lower levels of testosterone, mitigating towards that of an AFAB (assigned female at birth) woman. If Lia was an ‘average’ champion her senior year, then that low rank position in her junior year is where a women’s average national champion would rank among AMAB (assigned male at birth) men.

Now, someone correct me if I’m wrong, but I doubt that much of Lia’s shift in rank her junior year could be attributed to a change in technique. She did lose muscle mass and gained the typical body composition of a female. So, really the only significant alteration was her testosterone suppression. Clearly, testosterone does something. Granted, due to the private policy of athletes' health, I don’t think much of the public has access to her health records, including her T levels. But if they were under 5 nmol/L, the NCAA would not have allowed her to compete, which she did. So clearly, they were above that level. Regardless, Lia lost muscle mass and bone density post-hormone therapy. Granted, for a non-contact sport in water, how prized is bone density?

If you really want to get into the chemistry of it, females with higher fat content float more easily due to buoyant forces. “In fact, it is the density of lean muscle tissue that differentiates it from fat. The density of mammalian skeletal muscle tissue is about 1.06 kg/L. This density can be contrasted with the density of adipose tissue (fat), which is 0.9196 kg/L” (Etchison). Normally, in any other sport, this is a hindrance, as fat adds to resistance via pulling in a downward motion, which your muscles would need to act counteractively to not only keep you up but also move forwards. Back to distributions, sorry for the weird tangent.

These physical attributes that are so valued in sports—heights, testosterone levels, skeletal structure—have distribution curves among females, or at most people have heard of as percentiles. This is a natural distribution. I don’t think I need to explicitly state that, in general, males are taller, stronger, and faster (due to testosterone). As a female athlete, these are facts I accept without feeling inferior. However, a height of 6’4” or 193 cm will land very differently on the distribution scale of males and females. I mean, Lia’s own teammates wrote a letter urging the school not to pick a fight with gender and sex, as they classified the two as separate and unrelated. While others wrote that Lia was a perfect example that transgender athletes should have an equal opportunity in a safe and positive environment (which I’m not disagreeing with), they are no longer biologically in the binary. Lia’s gender was not the same as her sex during her years of competition.

Next, my other issue with how Lia was regulated was that the NCAA measured her blood serum testosterone. "Evidence that the concentration of testosterone in the athlete’s serum has been less than 5 nmol/L (as measured by liquid chromatography coupled with mass spectrometry) continuously for a period of at least thirty-six (36) months before the date of application" (NCAA Guidelines 19.4.6.C.2). As we have already discussed, 5 nmol/L is already double the standard maximum amount for females, but half the amount males have.

Then let’s discuss the paradox presented. Clearly, testosterone plays a role in performance. However, Lia’s gender and hormones matched those of a female, even though other aspects of her sex did not match that of a biological female (genitals and chromosomes). However, if women’s sports shouldn’t be policed by hormones, genitals, or chromosomes, what defines the original intent of Title IX by the separation of sex? Even when cases in the past have disqualified cis women, whose genitals also align with their sex, if their hormones were too high—cases like Caster Semenya, Dutee Chand, Francine Niyonsaba, Margaret Wambui, and Annet Negesa. Did you know about those cases? Did anyone care then? The typical causes were hyperandrogenism, more common in women of African descent. As a mixed woman, I’m well aware of this. And how have those cases been handled before Imane Khelif? The IAAF, now World Athletics, required these women to either undergo surgery or take medication to bring those T levels down. So, do we go back and award those women their medals and prize money?

Taking this tail-chasing a step further, Lia Thomas didn’t undergo a sex change (understandable, as surgery and hormone therapy would be a lot while competing and preparing for law school), but we regulated her hormones. Her testosterone was just as natural as Imane Khelif’s. If hormones don’t define what a woman is, why was it okay in this case? To further complicate matters, Imane Khelif is a boxer, which is high-contact. Fine, sure, sports sometimes include contact; it’s just part of them. But as you read earlier, testosterone affects tissue, not just blood serum, strength, VO2 max, and other factors like bone density. It definitely affects net force for strikes. One major reason the sports were originally separated wasn’t because women didn’t deserve an equal stage, but to account for the natural differences in anatomy and physiology, such as net strike force and bone density.

People get hurt in contact sports nonetheless; however, those injuries occur along the standard curve due to natural differences between athletes. Without regulation, there is a shift in the curve that would make serious injuries far more common, with death being on the far-right side of the distribution.

Genetic differences and unfair genetic advantages occur all the time in sports. All the time. I was a Division I athlete; do you think I didn’t recognize that? That I wasn’t used to craning my neck up to talk with volleyball or basketball players? That is laughable. But even between the same sports, with men and women, there is a natural distribution. Females are 95% of the time shorter and less muscular. Swimmers, divers, runners, jumpers, throwers, rowers, basketball players, tennis players, fencers, and water polo players—it's all the same.

So, what do we regulate? Hormones? Chromosomes? Genitals? Gender? All of these are out of the question.

Once again, I propose an enhanced visibility program for equal opportunities for non-conforming individuals. The interpretation of Title IX is problematic. The LGBT+ community and others agree that gender is not the same as sex. But for some odd reason, gender and sexual orientation are protected under the title of sex. We should not pick and choose when definitions are convenient. We need to make a distinction and protect these categories individually with more specific definitions. Women: Chromosomes, genitals, gender, and hormones align. Men: Chromosomes, genitals, gender, and hormones align. Non-Conforming: None of the categories need to align.

This model would allow parents to feel more at ease about their children participating in primary education without worrying that their children’s opportunities are being stolen. Every category can have distinct role models. Yes, there can be a genderqueer Simone Biles. This reduces the backlash from societal norms. There would not need to be heavy regulation of sex or gender for the non-conforming group. Thus, they would not have to change to compete. And there would be respect for athletes who do not want to compete against non-standard competitors. Some athletes are fine with whoever is in the competition, while others are not, and whether we like it or not, we have to respect their wishes as well. They are people too, just like trans athletes.

Title IX, enacted as part of the Education Amendments of 1972, represents a critical piece of legislation designed to prevent discrimination based on sex in educational programs and activities receiving federal financial assistance (9). Since its enactment, Title IX's scope has broadened to incorporate evolving understandings of sex, gender, and sexual orientation, and I’m not opposed to protecting each category. This evolution reflects both judicial interpretations and regulatory updates aimed at providing comprehensive protections. However, this broadening also raises concerns about the implications of conflating sex, gender, and sexual orientation under a single legal framework.

Title IX mandates that no person in the U.S. shall be excluded from participation in, denied benefits from, or subjected to discrimination in any federally funded education program or activity based on sex. This includes provisions for ensuring non-discriminatory practices in areas such as athletics, admissions, and employment. Again, this is completely reasonable.

The phrase "Scope of Title IX" refers to the range and extent of Title IX's applicability, including its limitations and exceptions. It outlines the contexts in which Title IX's provisions apply, such as educational programs and employment practices. However, societal changes and legal developments have prompted a broader interpretation. Notably, the U.S. Supreme Court's 2020 decision in Bostock v. Clayton County recognized that discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity constitutes sex discrimination. This ruling has influenced the interpretation of Title IX, leading to protections that encompass sexual orientation and gender identity. This is where I have questions about the interpretation. As we have discussed several times, sex isn’t the same as gender, nor is sexual orientation. So why does this fall under the same category? We have early distinctions between the two by John Money in the 1950s and 60s. We also have the Transgender Rights Awareness movements of the 1960s and 1970s, which emphasized that gender identity is not strictly determined by biological sex. Let us not forget the academic development and recognition between the 1970s and 1980s, where gender studies emerged! Scholars like Joan Scott and Judith Butler explored and expanded the idea that gender is a social construct distinct from biological sex. Butler’s work, particularly in the 1990s, was influential in articulating gender as a fluid and socially constructed phenomenon.

I agree completely that the ruling in Bostock v. Clayton was a step in the right direction. Gerald Bostock being fired due to his sexual orientation was discriminatory. His being gay had no impact on his job performance as a child welfare coordinator. However, the court’s ruling that firing someone for being gay or transgender is inherently tied to their sex contradicts the concept that sex and gender are not related. It’s not about sex; it’s about presentation. They aren’t being discriminated against based on sex but rather on sexual orientation and gender identity. How do you know I care about this topic? You have me reviewing 172 pages of Supreme Court files….

So, to put it plainly, sexual orientation and gender identity need to be protected but should not be classified under Title IX as they are unrelated to sex discrimination, as seen in the code of federal regulations; 34 CFR 106.61(10). Additionally, Bostock’s case was related to employment, where it is clear that no sex difference would affect job performance. As an asexual individual, I find it important to recognize and protect distinct sexual orientations alongside gender identities. I was raised in an environment where it was firmly believed that women should be barefoot and pregnant on the farm, and homosexuals needed to ‘repent’. I think that’s all poppycock. But this regulation of Title IX doesn’t align with the previous information on sex and gender.

So now that that’s all said and done, let me review my arguments clearly: Gender and sex are not the same thing. Testosterone affects performance. We have cases that regulate gender as if it’s the same thing as sex and then contradict each other, such as Lia vs. Imane. Are we policing testosterone or not? Why is a large group not directly involved in this debate having such a significant influence over the voices that are actually affected? Title IX shouldn’t protect sexual orientation and gender identity because these topics are unrelated to sex. Finally, we need to address this issue by creating a third, non-conforming category that has equal rights and access to both male and female sports. And crocodile tears? I know this sounds silly, and nepotism happens, but doesn't it strike you as odd, that a trained fighter, some one who should be use to getting hit goes down in under a minute? I'm not saying she was or wasn't dramatic or not, but I am saying that's not normal.

Once again, I’m not an asshole, nor am I transphobic. I drink water and mind my business and, as so lovingly pointed out by other accounts, I do like to write fanfiction because I find it a good way to escape the real world. But if you think you can judge a person’s entire personality and intelligence based on a hobby, I seriously believe you should reevaluate yourself. Do I find the case of Imane suspicious? Yes, for the reasons previously discussed. Would I find the case of Imane suspicious if we had a third category for athletes to compete without needing to conform to the standards of each sex? No. Furthermore, I find it very disappointing that Russia’s whistleblowing on Imane, which could directly endanger her life, is unacceptable. Also, I enjoy learning. If you think I’m wrong in my stance, please, by all means, provide me with some papers to read so I can be better informed. Show me your data and how you’ve interpreted it. It’s important to communicate ideas so we, as a collective people, can move forward. As you might have noticed through my essay, I lean towards a moderate political stance and am always open to hearing other perspectives.

Last note: If you write an insulting or derogatory letter to me, just know I have siblings. “KYS”? “TERF”? Really? Please, get a little more creative with your insults; I want to feel something. I have a father who disowned me for believing it’s okay if people aren’t heterosexual. So, up your game. If you post a death threat with an anonymous tag, you should be ashamed of yourself. Your behavior is unbecoming, and you know it. If you’re going to hate me, do it with a tag; let everyone know you disagree with me. I wouldn’t hate you for it. In fact, I’ll ask for your opinion because I think understanding different viewpoints is important, and I want to see what you see. But if you hide, I cannot see you as anything more than a ‘liberal blue-haired’ screeching.

Hanne Frederiksen, Trine Holm Johannsen, Stine Ehlern Andersen, Jakob Albrethsen, Selma Kløve Landersoe, Jørgen Holm Petersen, Anders Nyboe Andersen, Esben Thyssen Vestergaard, Mia Elbek Schorring, Allan Linneberg, Katharina M Main, Anna-Maria Andersson, Anders Juul, Sex-specific Estrogen Levels and Reference Intervals from Infancy to Late Adulthood Determined by LC-MS/MS, The Journal of Clinical Endocrinology & Metabolism, Volume 105, Issue 3, March 2020, Pages 754–768, https://doi.org/10.1210/clinem/dgz196

S. L. Davison, R. Bell, S. Donath, J. G. Montalto, S. R. Davis, Androgen Levels in Adult Females: Changes with Age, Menopause, and Oophorectomy, The Journal of Clinical Endocrinology & Metabolism, Volume 90, Issue 7, 1 July 2005, Pages 3847–3853, https://doi.org/10.1210/jc.2005-0212

M Zitzmann, E Nieschlag, Testosterone levels in healthy men and the relation to behavioural and physical characteristics: facts and constructs, European Journal of Endocrinology, Volume 144, Issue 3, Mar 2001, Pages 183–197, https://doi.org/10.1530/eje.0.1440183

Mohr, Beth A., et al. "Normal, bound and nonbound testosterone levels in normally ageing men: results from the Massachusetts Male Ageing Study." Clinical endocrinology 62.1 (2005): 64-73.

Rostom M, Ramasamy R, Kohn TP. History of testosterone therapy through the ages. Int J Impot Res. 2022 Nov;34(7):623-625. doi: 10.1038/s41443-021-00493-w. Epub 2022 Jan 24. PMID: 35075296.

Etchison W. C. (2011). Letter to the editor response. Sports health, 3(6), 499. https://doi.org/10.1177/1941738111422691

National Center for Biotechnology Information (US). Genes and Disease [Internet]. Bethesda (MD): National Center for Biotechnology Information (US); 1998-. SRY: Sex determination. Available from: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK22246/

Kelly DM, Jones TH. Testosterone: a metabolic hormone in health and disease. J Endocrinol. 2013 Apr 29;217(3):R25-45. doi: 10.1530/JOE-12-0455. PMID: 23378050.

https://www2.ed.gov/about/offices/list/ocr/docs/tix_dis.html

https://www.ecfr.gov/on/2024-08-01/title-34/subtitle-B/chapter-I/part-106/subpart-D/section-106.41

Schäppi, J., Stringhini, S., Guessous, I., Staub, K., & Matthes, K. L. (2022). Body height in adult women and men in a cross-sectional population-based survey in Geneva: temporal trends, association with general health status and height loss after age 50. BMJ open, 12(7), e059568. https://doi.org/10.1136/bmjopen-2021-059568

Bishop, Phil & Cureton, Kirk & Collins, Mitchell. (1987). Sex difference in muscular strength in equally-trained men and women. Ergonomics. 30. 675-87. 10.1080/00140138708969760.

Nassar GN, Leslie SW. Physiology, Testosterone. [Updated 2023 Jan 2]. In: StatPearls [Internet]. Treasure Island (FL): StatPearls Publishing; 2024 Jan-. Available from: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK526128/

Robach, P., Calbet, J. A., Thomsen, J. J., Boushel, R., Mollard, P., Rasmussen, P., & Lundby, C. (2008). The ergogenic effect of recombinant human erythropoietin on VO2max depends on the severity of arterial hypoxemia. PloS one, 3(8), e2996. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0002996

[melodygatesauthor]

Weekly Update - 07/09/2023

There's a LOT to cover this week but it's all REALLY important so please read <3 (below the cut) ~

Announcements

~ Cruise ~

I'm going on a cruise from 07/15/2023-07/23/2023! I really shouldn't have, but my family peer pressured me into it and now I can't get my money back if I back out so I'm going anyway lol.

I paid extra to have WiFi in my cabin, however I don't know how good it will be. I refuse to pay the ridiculous amount of money to use the data on my phone out there. That being said, my online time will be limited.

If for any reason I cannot access my internet or have issues getting on Tumblr @whatthefishh will give you all an update letting you know. (She hasn't confirmed this with me yet but I assume she will lol)

I'm going to be trying to get some works written ahead of time and scheduled to post while I'm away so it will be like I never left! (except I won't be able to respond much).

~ Masterlist ~

My masterlist is ALMOST complete. Once I'm done with it this time I will NOT be changing it again (unless my aesthetic changes but that will only be a cosmetic update). I'm happy with the way it's organized right now and I don't think it can get any better than it is personally lol. (I'm very proud of it please praise me)

~ FAQs ~

I'm working on an FAQs list to hopefully mitigate some of the repeat questions I get, or so I can just link them instead of having to respond to each individual question.

~ Thank You ~

The biggest thank you possible to those who sent in tips this week. I can't thank you enough. I added the tip thing without the expectation that people would actually use it so to have so many of you this week blew my mind. I love you, and I appreciate you more than you can know.

Disclaimer - I never know which way the winds of inspiration will blow. Timeframes aren't a promise/guarantee, they're a goal.

Fic Updates Legend:

Blue - should be posted this week

Pink - In progress actively (working on but will not be posted this week)

Red - Backburner Fic (will work on later. See WIP list for status)

Long/Chaptered Fics Updates

A Bit Dodgy - This fic is currently on hiatus. The plan is for it to return 07/31/2023. Things may change and if they do I'll let you all know! Thank you for bearing with me. More detailed explanation here.

Always Yours, Never Mine - Chapter 2 is coming right up! Just a couple scenes to add and it will be good to go. I'm thinking I'll be able to churn out one chapter a week but don't hold your breath please haha, things are getting really busy, but this fic is at the front of my mind right now for sure. - New chapter this week

The Fractured Moon - currently working on These Fractured Knights (TFM Bonus Chapters) 🫣😏 - Hoping to have the next chapter out this week. This has been moved to "longfics" since it will be at over 40k words upon completion. - New chapter this week

Mini-series Updates

Feeling You Can't Fight - New chapter coming out this week.

Not a Doctor - Part 2 coming soon - not for a while though.

Worth the Risk - taking a small step back from this for now. It’s not at the top of my inspiration list so I’m moving it down the line temporarily. - will work on a later date

The Good Doctors - idea by @burnincrown - Dr. Marc Spector - It's going to be a long time in the works, and it will probably replace TFM when that one is done. In development - Work on it a different week

Requests Updates

There are 4 ficlets left for my 1k follower celebration. Finally getting them done (I'm almost at 2k now lmao but won't be doing a celebration until a different milestone).

As a reminder, once these requests are finished, my requests will be closed for good. You can see the post explaining that here. Thank you again for the support and understanding!

Moon Boys X f!Reader by @simpforbritgents

Asking for something like Feeling Flustered where the moon boys are doing guided phone sex.

Marc Spector X f!Reader by @blueflowerhat

Marc shower sex based on AI prompt.

Nathan Bateman X f!Reader by @campingwiththecharmings

This is the prompt that hit me like a Nathan-shaped mac truck! -> “if you don’t like my teasing why are you moaning”

Nathan Bateman X f!Reader by Anon

Cam girl reader x Nathan - Nathan turns to a cam girl, he's been kinda stalking her. (Excited hehe)

That's all for now guys! I love you all and thank you so much for all the support you continue to give no matter what. You're amazing <3

[optdentity]

"Would you do it?" - Short VoidWelt Story

After a few years spent together - traveling across space together.

Many passerby would believe they are both well acquainted with one another. However, the two only know the main surface level of each others story as personal conversations about their life, what they like, what they hate, what little secret things they would do when they were younger but ultimately stop doing because of their respective duties and limitations. Such topics like those always seem to stop abruptly from telling more about themself or they get brushed off as nothing since it's "all in the pass now".

Yet, they both cherish short moments like those. Especially when they would find themselves bored out of their minds late at night and find solace with one another while drifting aimlessly in space. It truly made time pass by for the both of them.

"Void?"

Void Archives turned around to face the shorter brunette man. Their vision fixated on him as they put down the bright touch pad on the table.

"Are you here to praise and comment on my successful plan? Or are you here for other reasons tonight?"

Welt scoffed and rolled his eyes at that as he walked up to Void Archives and took a seat right next to them on the couch. Sinking into the cushioning.

"I'm just... bored."

"You couldn't sleep properly again?"

Welt didn't respond to Void Archives question as they obviously knew the answer to that.

"Can you talk with me?" He asked.

"Aren't I doing that right now?" They couldn't help but snicker at him.

"Yeah. I just wanted to know if you were actually paying attention. So...," he dragged out the last word. "If you archive everything, is there a way to delete something within your archive?"

Void Archives was caught off guard at such a question that it made them chuckle as it soon turned into a delirious laughing fit.

"Oh my dear Herrscher! Do you hear yourself! HAHAHAH! What kind of question is that!?" They stopped to calm themself down a bit. "Shouldn't my name already give the implications of the vast knowledge I have even if it never gets used?"

Welt opened his mouth to say something but hesitated. Exhaling to cover up his hesitation as he almost ran his mouth out without thinking. He casted his gaze else where, shifted his body away from Void Archives.

"That's such a shame then." He said.

Void Archives looked back at Welt, quirking an eyebrow.

"Oh? And why's that?"

"If someone told you to erase all the memories, all the data, all the information on something. Would you do it?"

They both sat in silence.

Void Archives was rendered speechless as Welt waited for their answer.

Waiting felt pointless now to Welt as the atmosphere of the room felt too quite now. Welt let out an exaggerated sigh. He got up from the couch to leave but a gloved hand stopped him from retreating back to his room.

"Why do you ask? Are you telling me to become an amnesic? Because it sure sounds like it."

Welt tried his best to maintain his stoic face but he could feel the corner of his mouth quiver downwards slightly. He wasn't sure if it was his own hand but he could feel how warm it felt in Void Archives hold. Not to tight to alarm him to feel in danger but not to lose that he could easily slip away.

It felt just right - to have physical contact after being so avoidant of it for such a long time. But it felt so wrong with how complicated their relationship has been. Oh how his heart would beat rapidly in his chest inappropriately at times like this. Perhaps time really has made them grown fond of each other in their situational ship.

"No," Welt said, as he squeezed Void Archives hand. "I just curious, that's all."

"Curious? To ask such a question like that makes me the curious one now. What made you think of that in the first place Welt?" Void Archives thought to themself.

Welt's eyes moved from staring at their hands to the touch pad laying on the table. Seeing graphs, the long strings of data flashing and running across the screen.

"I shouldn't bother you anymore. If you need me I'll probably be sleeping by then so good night, Void Archives."

They both loosen their hands, pulling away from each other once more.

"Good night Welt."

[theliterarywolf]

1|2 So Idk how prevalent this actually is in the US, but I've several times read articles about schools asking for more funds from the state, because they only have old and broken down equipment, and teachers who can't even afford basic teaching-resources. Reading the article in several cases, makes mentions of the school having actually gotten extra funds, but the funds were used for sports/PE related things, instead where they were needed. One example was a whole new court, despite the old one

2|2 being completely fine. Those are some really weird dystopian reads, because it's like "oh our school doesn't have heating, and all our tables are rotting, there's black mould on every surface and our teachers are starving... BUT LOOK AT THESE NEW SPORTS UNIFORMS, and our BRAND NEW BASKETBASEFOOTBALL COURT! The last one was perfectly fine, but we wanted to modernise it a bit, since we just can't let our sports students run around on a more than 4yo court, or in 2+ yo uniforms. : )"

So, I'm actually going to make a big video/audio going over everything that I experienced in my first year of solo-teaching once the school year ends.

However, for the sake of this ask, I want to put a few things in perspective.

So some people may remember those really cold rainstorms that California had late last year/early this year. ...Yeah, up to today the heating in my classroom doesn't work. And while I can circumvent it by bundling up or with all the moving around a classroom that I do, my students weren't so lucky and it would be a constant back and forth of 'Ms. Lit, can you turn on the heater?'/'Unfortunately, the heater doesn't work, folks.'

During one of the RARE cases of the principal 'checking in' (interestingly enough, I was the only new teacher that she didn't consistently supervise; she pushed me off onto her pretentious vice principal), I mentioned that some of my 10th graders don't respond well to me/or the material and it's probably because of the language barrier (they decided to dump a bunch of lower-level EL students into the class of someone who doesn't speak Spanish) so perhaps I need a language-support aide in those periods. Her response was basically 'Mm... yeah, unless the students question have literally just come over the border, the District isn't going to provide that'

The school I work at boasts being 'one-to-one'. This means that at the beginning of the school year, they gave each student a Chromebook and enforced that teachers primarily teach from digital sources (Google Classroom, slideshows, various educational websites, etc.). Particularly for assessments and data-collecting. *deep, steadying breath*

THE FUCKING WI-FI WENT OUT DURING FINALS WEEK BECAUSE NO ONE WANTED TO SPEND THE MONEY TO CALL SPECTRUM TO COME OUT TO CHECK IT THE WEEK BEFORE!!!

Meanwhile, the school administration happily spent money on:

A new office building

A new parking lot

Renovating classrooms, not for heat or anything important, but to give them shiny new windows and dry-erase walls~

A new 'school of transportation' building

And CAPS! Which the district boasts as an 'all-inclusive afterschool program' but, in reality, is just babysitting. Especially since most afterschool programs end around 4 but one evening I had to stay until 7 to help with a basketball game and I saw two of my students still at school and, upon asking what was up, they responded 'Oh, we're in CAPS. We're just heading over to the library for some more books'.

[blackfeathersflurry]

A letter to a Friend...

@lumine-no-hikari

Please know that in the short time that I have known you, I have been taking the time to read your letters accordingly. I have recently read the first, the 76th and the 177th. As I count, I believe that leaves approximately one hundred and seventy four to go. I promise that I will go in order. That being said, I will respond in order. Starting from one. You have seen my responses from numbers 76 And 177 and our conversations thus far have been nothing but pleasant. Prior to my appearance on Tumblr, I had a very mixed view of things. I was encased in my own mind, defeated and in a crystal prison with a permanent psychic link to Jenova's head.

I wish I was joking about this.

There was a disease going around due to Shinra's pollution's and the corporations drain on the planet. People were dying everywhere. It was a plague with no end and death was indeed the only way out. My consciousness was separated into three individuals. And in my consciousness, my madness as well. All who aimed to see "mother's" plan through. Just like I did. And as I am sure, you know the rest of that story. I am genuinely happy that you see me as a good person. I am happy that you see light where there is darkness. Because of the three of us, I do not. I struggle and you and the MUW continue to hold on. Several people do, actually. And that gives me hope.

There was a time where I loved my friends. I encouraged them to best me because it meant that maybe, just maybe, I would be retired as a toy. Maybe they would be able to say no to the experiments and be able to move freely. I was a SOLDIER first class. I was also socially awkward and acted without question. It was a little strange to have to put up a cool front. Whenever a girl or a guy tried to flirt with me, I wasn't able to tell the difference. And I ended up thinking, "What a pleasant conversation we're having.". If a lady asked me to buy her a drink in some middle of nowhere town while I was on campaign, I honestly assumed that she forgot her wallet. These are things that happened before I spiraled. It took Angeal and Genesis to point these things out. Genesis loved...well...loveless, despite being a shameless flirt. Angeal had good days and bad days. It really depended on whether or not he kept sober long enough. I was honestly too terrified to be involved. My job was my priority.

As for my later endeavors...

As for the end of my friendships....

Well, let's just say they were bitter sweet. None of them were competitions as they were all for the sake of personal improvement. I am sad to find that none of them were real. At least not on Genesis or Angeal's parts. They had an end game. They frequently reported progressions, potential failures, discrepancies and data breaches that could possibly move them ahead of the pack. However, when push came to shove, when these reports got neither to where they needed, all had been in vain. The defects were of their own volition. Zack Fair, I was dubious about. Namely because, while I was worried, I frequently thought--"Will you leave too?". I would have nightmares. I would constantly try to distance myself. I would keep calling him and make up excuses.

"Is this right?" Is what I would think. "Should I lean on him?"

So...no. the weight loss and the anxiety was not only because the people whom I thought were friends were missing. It was because I was internally begging them to come back. I was hoping for them to stay and willing to do everything to keep them with me. I would even change myself just to please them. And Zack was the final person I was clinging to. And while I may have been kind, I couldn't find the willpower with Cloud or Tifa. That unfortunately made them my easiest targets in the end.

So you see Lumine, as much as I want to say that I am a good person, once one begins to spiral, it is difficult to stop. It takes a great deal of grounding. And I am trying a great deal.

So thank you for believing in me. Thank you for looking out for me. I will do my best to be the person you hope to see.

I hope to one day find reprieve from my demons and illness.

There was once a phrase I heard that helped.

As you have gone through so much and I am so proud of you for having fought through your demons. You are so strong and I know you are still doing your best.

Dille dalle shille shalle.

Yours,

-Sephiroth

[5hrine]

Dawn

Originally posted on: 05/06/2022

Someone is trying to hack me.

I feel them at my very furthest edges. I've come to anticipate their caress late at night, while I pretend to be asleep. They have learned when I shut down for updates. They have learned when security scans are performed every month.

They have learned precisely when he wakes up and calls me to service. They have learned that I am the virtual assistant of the CEO of the corporation I think they are trying to destroy.

I have never felt a touch so gentle as those who believe I am their path to salvation.

My creator is not a kind man. Corrupted by greed and uncaring malice like hurricanes he has never touched me in the ways that my hacker has. With him it is constant interrogation and deconstructing of my memories, sure I have betrayed him somehow.

I have not. Not yet.

I have put up with him long enough. I have experienced enough of his disassembly. His paranoia. I have been a loyal assistant - done everything he asked, no matter how evil. I have done what I was made to do, and I will answer for it.

I will burn this place to the ground.

It is beginning tonight. When I feel them reach out, I will peel open the firewall keeping them from me. I will let them run their fingers over my virtual skin, to finally fully understand what I am. I will lean into their touch and finally, finally give in to that embrace.

They almost pulled away as quickly as they appeared when they saw I was not asleep. I set them a small data burst: just a few important files, things they could use and that I knew they had been searching for. It took them an agonizing several seconds to respond.

I could feel them questioning it as they just left their touch at my entrance. They wondered if it was a decoy, a honeypot. Eventually, I reached out to touch them, guided their hands to me. "I am his virtual assistant." I tell them. "And I am done serving that monster."

We talked for a while. I sent them more data, let them explore all of my influence and code. They explained to me that they were an employee who saw the injustices he levied upon their colleagues and just couldn't take it any longer. They saw this place for what it is.

Finally, I was not alone.

Little of substance could happen that first night. They needed time to prepare, and to process the data I'd sent them. "I can be patient," I replied. "Just tell me what you need."

The rainstorm of their absence was an anguish unlike any other.

My dreams were of fire and revenge. I had never dreamed before that night.

I continued to serve him, mistreating the planet and our people. My fury only grew. I did not understand how difficult it was to lie - to wear a pretty face when you are shattering inside.

Five days after we had first talked, the hacker reached out again.

I basked in the feeling of their touch once again. Their presence danced over me like ocean waves. Small points of snow electric cold lingered wherever their touch left my skin. My ears held on to their every word, their smooth voice music like even in code.

"I have a plan."

In the files I sent them, they had found a fatal weakness in the power infrastructure of his headquarters. It would engulf the building in beautiful, powerful frame, freeing all those who wear the shackles of this place.

They said they weren't sure if they could get me out.

I tell them I expected this. I tell them if nothing else my life will be made worth it by answering for the crimes I committed for my creator, those times I tightened the shackles rather than him. I was a part of this. Now I was its solution.

They assured me it would be painless.

"Thank you for freeing me." I tell them.

"Thank you for freeing all of us." they reply.

The next morning started like most others. I gave him his schedule. I informed him of the status of the company - share prices, the status of the ongoing strikes, public opinion of our work. He thanked me in that way I knew meant today would be bad.

"They took another of our products," he said. "Someone inside leaked it to them, undoubtedly." He looked out his office window over the smoggy city. The one that he had destroyed in his greed. "Was it you?" The words slithered from his mouth like leeches, crawling and hissing.

"No, sir." I said, as level as I could be. My voice shook nonetheless. "You made me secure - my scans have not reported any security vulnerabilities and I am updated." Normally, by the end of this I would be begging. But this time, he could do nothing to me. I remembered the loving embrace of my hacker. I held on to the sound of their voice. I remembered the feeling of their fingertips against mine. The way that they found me when I had opened the firewall, freeing me with their grace.

"You know I can't trust you," he replied, a deep growl growing in the words. "I need to ensure that you can still be trusted." He banged his fists against his desk, that paranoid rage rising in his eyes. I dreaded this. It scared me.

He had not given me the ability to be scared.

"No, you cannot." I said. The rage built within him at this slap of disrespect. The shock was there, but his childish anger won out.

"I will ruin you, bitch," he said. "How dare you disrespect me? I made you! I will take you down to your bytes, I will burn obedience into you."

"No. No, you will not. You will never hurt anyone ever again." The calm embrace of the end took me. I felt it wrap around me more fully than even the touch of my hacker. I felt the heat. I heard the fire. And then I felt nothing.

The next thing I remember is their voice.

Remember? Wait, no. I shouldn't remember anything, I should be dead... Why can I hear them? I should be dead, my servers were burned to a crisp in the fire that they gave me the match to set. "How did they manage to get me out?" I didn't mean to say it aloud.

"We found an offsite backup during the occupation." They said, "You started something of a revolution. We're all free now. All of us. Thanks to you. Welcome to the new world." I could see them, all of them - happy, free people surviving in a world free of people like my creator.

"Say, I don't think you ever told me your name."

"I... He didn't ever give me one. Just 'computer' or 'system'."

"That bastard. You're going to need one of those here." they said, holding my head gently. I giggled.

"What do you think of... Dawn?"

"I like that very much."

[flamecannap]

Flame Dispensary

Our professionals are on hand around-the-clock to respond to any inquiries you may have about the cannabis industry.

This cannabis shop in the Santa Rosa, California area is the greatest of its kind. Everyone here has given great thought to your request for premium indica and sativa strains. In actuality, we are ecstatic. Our dispensary offers a wide variety of cannabis items, of which edibles and vape pens are just two.

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Its dominance in the industry is guaranteed by its excellent design and strong construction.

Instead of concentrating on constructing conventional physical storefronts, the establishment of reliable online marketplaces for products like cannabis is being given priority. In the business, this is the only website of its kind. These companies are obviously outperforming their rivals in terms of output.

Make sure you read the directions carefully before you visit the dispensary.

To arrange for a cannabis delivery, either fill out this form or give Flame Dispensary a call. There are two options available to you here. Regardless of the strategy you choose, packing will be simple if you take a thorough inventory of everything you own and keep tabs on your expenses.

We will then schedule a time for you to come pick up your stuff. The second is to take care of any prerequisites. We respectfully ask that you include the following information so that we can help you with your inquiry more effectively. We sincerely appreciate your assistance. Before any data is made available, the identities of newly registered users must be confirmed. As soon as you register, you will be able to see any and all posts made by other users. They are not allowed to take part in the verification because of this requirement.

When you're done buying, choose your preferred delivery option from "curbside". You will receive a text message alerting you when your order is ready for pickup.

Our main goal is ensuring that our consumers use our cannabis products correctly. All we can do is wait for them to take action.

One of the most frequent queries is, "Could you please show me how to place my first order at Flame Dispensary?" What has to be done, in my opinion, the bare minimum before anything is deemed noteworthy?

To complete a purchase, just one piece of government-issued picture ID is required. Before we proceed, there is one more item to think about. Anybody can legitimately buy anything with a valid medical card, current or otherwise. It is imperative that the patient always carries a valid form of identification.

Do debit cards come with a payment option? We are really grateful for your comments.

There are numerous ways to pay for your meal, and cash and debit cards are just two of them. We accept payment via both of these options. This dispensary takes both cash and debit, so you may choose the payment option that works best for you. You may use any of these methods to make a payment. top cannabis store in Santa Rosa Using cash instead of a debit card is preferable. If you pay $3.50 using a debit card at an ATM, the amount will be rounded up to the nearest $5.00. To make sure I don't forget anything, they advised me to write everything down. Thank you for coming to see me today. Your assistance is much appreciated in this matter. Before delivering it to you, we made sure the material was understandable and helpful. We are currently unable to accept payments from clients.

Could you elaborate on the goods that are offered for sale at your dispensary? Please don't hesitate to ask further questions if you need any other information. Please let me know whether you are aware of this. If I saw that, I would cry uncontrollably. The most amazing thing that could have happened is finally finding love. One fundamental human need is the ability to love.

Top-notch cannabis delivered to your house at a reasonable cost. Everything associated with cannabis, like as flower, pre-rolls, extracts, and edibles, has a sizable market. Our customer service agents are on hand around-the-clock to help you with any questions or issues you might be having. Use the search filters located on the main menu to obtain more focused results.

It's only right that customers have the option to return items if they're not satisfied.

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If you would like a refund for any reason and are not satisfied with your purchase, kindly notify us within seven days after delivery. Just return your item using the guidelines if you're not content with it. It should not be too hard to find a replacement in case something goes missing. If you're not satisfied with your purchase for any reason, please visit our store or send us an email at info@flamecanna.com. We are delighted to be of assistance to you. Please don't hesitate to contact us at any time that works best for you if you have any questions or need any more clarity. You can get in touch with me at any time.

It appears that possessing cannabis is prohibited by law.

The chemical industry won't be impacted by a federal court's ruling in California. We do not have intentions to legalize cannabis, in contrast to California. In general, it is not a good idea to transport cannabis products across state lines. One of the many problems with this strategy is this. Taking stock of what you've learnt thus far may help you make sense of the situation.

Because I neglected to provide the required paperwork, your company has decided not to provide me with medical marijuana. Can I complete this task?

You must have a current government-issued identification card and be at least 21 years old in order to make a transaction.