#in-class flowchart

[bitegore]

ngl i think i kind of was a genius for being like 'yeah this character is a scary killyou cannibal scary killer who scary kills you' and then realizing that the way my worldbuilding works out is that there's a nonzero chance that if you leave literally any body parts over they can just come back, depending on what they believe in their heart of hearts can kill them. Of course she'd start eating her kills. She probably tried normal stuff first and then realized it didn't work and she had to try harder if she wanted to actually keep them dead.

[quatregats]

Having a real autism moment over the idea of doing fieldwork

[vamptastic]

sighs and starts a new page in the notebook where i make incoherent flowcharts in an attempt to understand how the human endocrine system works

[diamonddaze01]

Error 404: Feelings not Found

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f!reader | wc: 4.0k genre: fluff, electrical engineering student wonwoo (pulled out my textbooks for this) warnings: loserboy core a/n: for all my fellow left-brained girlies who have never really understood feelings. sometimes, all you have to do is feel // now playing: when he sees me // thank u kae @ylangelegy for the song suggestion and betaing ily muah!

summary: Wonwoo has always been comfortable in the world of logic.  But his crush on you? A catastrophic anomaly in his otherwise perfectly functioning system.

Wonwoo has always been comfortable in the world of logic. Numbers are predictable, formulas are consistent, and circuits behave exactly as they’re supposed to. But his crush on you? A catastrophic anomaly in his otherwise perfectly functioning system.

It’s not like he planned for this. (Wonwoo plans for everything.) He planned how to tackle his midterms, down to how much coffee he’d need for optimal brain function. He planned his study schedule for finals week with a level of precision that could rival NASA’s launch timelines. But he didn’t plan for you—didn’t account for how you’d waltz into his life, smiling like it was easy, and throw every variable he’d ever known into disarray.

Take last week, for instance. You’d borrowed his notes in Signals class after the professor’s lecture turned into a chaotic sprint of equations, leaving most of the class scrambling to catch up. Wonwoo’s notes, as always, were pristine—straight lines, perfect margins, not a single smudge or scribble.

“These are amazing,” you’d said, eyes scanning the page before handing them back. “Your designs are so clean.”

Simple, right? A harmless comment. But by the time he’s back at his desk, staring at his notebook, the words replay in his mind like an unsolved equation. Somewhere between “clean” and the way you smiled, his brain spins out of control, dragging him into an entirely unnecessary analysis.

By the time the clock strikes midnight, he’s halfway through a list of possible interpretations for the word clean.

Did you mean clean as in technically proficient?

Or was it a general observation, like, “Oh, clean lines, nice work”?

Was it just a filler compliment?

Wait, what if you didn’t care about the project at all and were just being polite?

…Or were you flirting?

By the end of the day, the list has ballooned to 27 points, each item meticulously numbered and annotated with follow-up questions. He’s considered:

The tone of your voice (friendly, teasing, or something else entirely?).

The duration of eye contact (exactly 2.3 seconds—long enough to register intent?).

The statistical likelihood of romantic interest based on casual interactions in a shared academic setting.

He even creates a small flowchart titled “Compliment Probability Breakdown” in the margins, complete with arrows leading to various outcomes: “Casual comment” → “Friendly disposition” → “No further analysis needed.” Except, of course, he does further analyze. He always further analyzes.

Mingyu finds him later that night, still hunched over the notebook with a pencil tucked behind his ear. “Wonwoo, what are you doing? It’s a compliment, man. Just take it.”

Wonwoo glares up at him, a little defensive. “Compliments can have layers.”

“Compliments are not onions, dude. Sometimes people just say stuff because they mean it.” Mingyu grabs the notebook, flipping through pages of scribbled notes and diagrams. “Wait, are you seriously tracking eye contact now?”

Wonwoo snatches it back with a huff. “It’s for clarity.”

“Clarity,” Mingyu repeats, shaking his head. “Okay, listen: not everything needs a breakdown. Maybe she just thinks you’re good at this stuff.”

The suggestion should feel reassuring, but it only creates more questions. Do you think he’s good at this stuff? Wonwoo’s chest tightens as the overanalysis starts up again, his brain racing to decode every minor interaction between you two.

And for the first time in his life, he wonders if there’s a problem even logic can’t solve.

The first time Wonwoo realizes he might have a crush on you is during a Circuits lab. The task is simple: build an EKG circuit. The professor’s voice echoes in the background, laying out the steps, but Wonwoo doesn’t need instructions—he’s already ahead, mentally piecing together the circuit in his mind like a jigsaw puzzle.

You, him, and Soonyoung are grouped together. Soonyoung, true to form, spends more time spinning a pen between his fingers and accidentally dropping it than actually contributing. “What’s a diode again?” he whispers, squinting at the diagram. Wonwoo doesn’t bother answering. He’s focused on soldering the components, the familiar rhythm of it calming.

Then you lean closer. Close enough that he catches the faint scent of your shampoo—something floral, light, completely unexpected.

“Wow, you’re fast,” you say as Wonwoo expertly attaches a capacitor to the circuit. There’s a trace of genuine admiration in your voice, enough to make him falter. “I’d probably still be looking for the resistor.”

The comment shouldn’t faze him. It’s just a compliment, nothing extraordinary. He glances at you, briefly, before immediately looking back at the board. It feels safer not to meet your eyes for too long. “Uh, it’s color-coded,” he manages, his voice steady but quieter than usual. “You just… follow the stripes.”

You laugh softly, the sound threading its way into his chest like a loose wire connecting where it shouldn’t. “Yeah, but it’s not that simple for everyone,” you say, brushing a stray hair out of your face as you turn your attention to the circuit.

The way you say it makes his chest feel strangely tight—like you’ve taken something as mundane as resistors and turned it into a compliment, like you’re saying he’s not simple either. It’s a ridiculous thought, and yet it roots itself in his mind.

Wonwoo’s hand, soldering iron poised mid-air, doesn’t move. His brain, which usually fires on all cylinders, freezes like an overloaded processor. The soldering iron hovers dangerously close to the board, but all he can focus on is the way your hair catches the light, the way your fingers curl around the resistor as you inspect it. Wonwoo doesn’t mean to notice, but suddenly he can’t stop noticing—the way the fluorescent light reflects in your eyes, the faint trace of soap on your hands when you adjust a wire, the warmth radiating from your voice when you hum quietly in thought.

It’s not until Soonyoung gently clears his throat that he realizes his brain has completely stopped functioning. His usually razor-sharp focus is now cluttered with incoherent static. 

“Wonwoo?” you ask, leaning back slightly to meet his eyes. There’s a hint of concern in your voice. “You good?”

He panics. “Uh. 100 ohms.”

Your brow furrows. “What?”

“Uh—100 ohms,” he repeats, gesturing vaguely at the resistor in your hand like it explains anything. “That’s… its resistance.”

There’s a beat of silence, thick and awkward. You blink at him, clearly trying to piece together whatever he’s just said. Then you burst out laughing, shaking your head as you turn back to the project. “Okay, resistor boy. Whatever you say.”

The sound of your laughter leaves his chest feeling tight, like someone’s replaced his heart with a capacitor about to blow.

Soonyoung, who’s been watching the exchange with far too much interest, smirks. He leans over the table, stage-whispering, “What was that?”

“What was what?” Wonwoo mutters, focusing on the soldering again, as if he can undo the entire exchange by sheer force of will.

“You’re usually all cool and robotic,” Soonyoung teases, wagging his pen like it’s some kind of magic wand. “That was… weird.”

Wonwoo shakes his head quickly, but the heat creeping up the back of his neck says otherwise. “I don’t know,” he mumbles, the words barely audible over the hum of the soldering iron. “I think I glitched.”

“Uh, yeah. Glitched hard.” Soonyoung grins, nudging him in the ribs. “Man, this is going to be fun to watch.”

Wonwoo groans, his ears burning. The circuit in front of him makes perfect sense—the resistors, the capacitors, the impedance of the op-amp—but nothing about you fits into a neat schematic. And for the first time in his life, that terrifies him.

Now, weeks later, Wonwoo is in his room, utterly consumed by the mess on his desk. It’s an anomaly in itself—Wonwoo is meticulous, his workspace usually a shrine to organization (he always says: clean desk, clean mind). But now, papers are scattered like fallen leaves, covered in scribbles, equations, and bullet points that grow increasingly frantic as they spread across the desk.

The centerpiece of this chaos? A flowchart spanning two pages, taped together like some sort of grand engineering blueprint. It’s titled, in block letters: “Signs She Might Like Me Back.”

Wonwoo taps his pen against the paper, staring at the branching lines as if sheer focus might make them reveal the answer he’s been agonizing over. Beneath the title are subcategories labeled “Physical Cues,” “Verbal Indicators,” and, his personal favorite, “Ambiguous Behavior That Could Go Either Way.”

Under “Physical Cues,” he’s written:

Smiles when she sees me.

Leans closer during conversation (but what if it’s because of background noise?).

Touches my arm (happened once, inconclusive).

Under “Verbal Indicators,” there’s a bullet that reads:

Complimented my handwriting. Significance unclear.

He’s in the middle of adding a new branch—“Initiates conversation (specific or casual?)”—when the door bursts open without warning.

“Wonwoo, what the hell are you doing? It’s 3 AM.” Mingyu strides in, holding a bowl of instant ramen and a look of mild concern. His gaze lands on the desk, and his expression shifts to outright amusement. “Wait… what is this?”

Wonwoo freezes like he’s been caught committing a federal crime. He instinctively moves to cover the flowchart with both arms, but it’s far too late. Mingyu steps closer, craning his neck to read the edges of the paper that Wonwoo couldn’t shield in time.

“‘Compliments: Genuine or Polite’?” Mingyu reads aloud, his voice rising in barely-contained glee. He sets the ramen down and leans over the desk. “‘Smiles frequently—friendly or flirty?’ Wonwoo…” He looks at his friend, wide-eyed and grinning. “Are you seriously trying to analyze feelings right now?”

“No,” Wonwoo lies, far too quickly. “It’s… theoretical.”

Mingyu snorts, dropping into the chair beside him and spinning it halfway around before leaning forward. “Theoretical? Dude, this looks like the final project for your psych elective. Come on, what’s the problem? Spill.”

Wonwoo hesitates, gripping his pen like it’s the only thing tethering him to reality. But the weight of weeks of overthinking finally tips the scale, and he lets out a long sigh, setting the pen down.

“I just don’t… get it,” he admits, gesturing vaguely to the papers. “Feelings are so inconsistent. They don’t follow any rules. There’s no formula to predict intent, no way to be certain what someone means. How do people know if someone’s interested in them? How do you know when to… I don’t know, do something about it?”

Mingyu leans back in the chair, arms crossed as he considers the question. “Easy,” he says after a beat. “You stop thinking about it so much and just ask them out.”

Wonwoo blinks at him, utterly horrified. “That’s… illogical. That’s guessing. That’s like building a circuit without testing the components first. What if the whole thing explodes?”

“Yeah, well, feelings aren’t supposed to be logical,” Mingyu says with a shrug, grabbing the bowl of ramen and slurping a mouthful. He claps Wonwoo on the shoulder with his free hand, grinning around his chopsticks. “Face it, man. You’re screwed.”

Wonwoo stares at him, expression blank but mind racing at a million miles an hour. “There’s got to be a better way than just… guessing.”

“Good luck finding it,” Mingyu says, standing up and taking his ramen with him. “But if you don’t make a move soon, she might just think you’re not interested. So, you know… keep that in mind.”

Wonwoo sits in silence long after Mingyu leaves, staring down at his flowchart. His pen hovers over the paper, but he doesn’t write anything. For once, the calculations feel insufficient.

And maybe, just maybe, Mingyu’s right.

The thing is, you keep throwing off his system. Wonwoo’s world is built on rules, a place where inputs lead to predictable outputs. But you? You’re the glitch in his perfectly functioning program, an anomaly he can’t solve no matter how many late nights he spends overanalyzing.

The way you laugh at his deadpan jokes—it’s too loud for the library but not loud enough to draw attention, just enough to pull his gaze toward you. It doesn’t matter that you’ve already heard that joke during last week’s study session; you laugh anyway, and the sound is unreasonably addictive. The way you ask for help even when he knows you don’t need it. Like last week, when you slid your notebook toward him with a confused pout.

“Can you help me with this? I don’t get it.”

He barely glanced at the equation. “You’re way too smart to not understand this.”

And then you laughed, a soft, warm sound that curled around his chest and lodged itself there. That laugh earned a solid 15 points on his internal ‘Possible Signs of Interest’ checklist, though he later downgraded it to 10 because he couldn’t account for external variables like your naturally kind disposition.

It’s infuriating. Why do feelings refuse to conform to logic?

He tries analyzing every interaction, mapping out probabilities and outcomes in the quiet corners of his mind. He’s drawn tables, diagrams, even flowcharts in an attempt to parse out the truth.

Was the way you leaned closer during study group last week a sign of interest? Or were you just trying to hear him better? Did the way you laughed at his dumb, offhand comment in class mean something? Or do you just laugh like that at everything?

Take today, for example: You brushed past him on your way to class, smiling and throwing over your shoulder, “See you at study group later!” That brief moment derailed his entire afternoon.

Did you linger when your arm touched his? Or was that just an accidental graze? Was your smile just friendly, or something more?

And why does he care so much?

Wonwoo spends the rest of the day distracted, his mind looping through possibilities like an endless algorithm stuck in an infinite while-loop. What’s worse is that he doesn’t even know what he wants the answer to be. A part of him craves certainty, some definitive sign that he should act on these feelings. But another part—a quieter, more cautious part—fears the idea of ruining the tenuous balance between you two.

Because what if he’s wrong? What if you’re just like this with everyone? What if he makes his move and you pull away, looking at him like he’s a problem to be solved instead of someone you enjoy spending time with?

By the time the study session rolls around, he’s teetering on the edge of complete disarray, not that he’d ever let it show.

Or so he thinks.

Because two hours in, he miscalculates an integral. An integral. Wonwoo never miscalculates anything.

You catch it immediately, tilting your head as you lean closer. He can feel the heat radiating off your skin, the soft rustle of your notebook as you shift it toward him.

“Are you okay, Wonwoo? You’re usually so precise,” you say, your voice light but with an edge of curiosity.

His ears burn. “Just tired,” he mumbles, avoiding your gaze as he corrects the mistake. He doesn’t add that it’s your proximity short-circuiting his brain, or that the way your hair falls over your shoulder is infinitely more distracting than any differential equation.

Your smirk lingers in his periphery, and he wonders if you can tell just how fast his heart is beating. He wonders if you feel the same strange, unexplainable pull that he does.

The study session stretches late into the evening. Most of the group has already packed up, and you’re the last one still typing away at your laptop when Wonwoo’s caffeine miscalculation finally catches up to him.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep—just the faint hum of your keyboard and the warm glow of the desk lamp. When he stirs slightly, he feels a ghosting touch against his face.

Your fingers are gentle as you slide his glasses off, careful not to wake him. He feels the cool metal leave his skin, followed by the soft brush of your thumb near the mark his nose pad left.

His heart lurches, and he has to force himself to keep his breathing even. A dozen thoughts rush through his mind all at once:

Is she doing this because she likes me?No, she’s just being considerate.But she’s touching my face.What does that mean? What does it mean if she’s touching my face?

He clenches his fists against the urge to open his eyes, to meet your gaze and demand answers. Instead, he forces himself to focus on the moment—the sound of your quiet breaths, the occasional click of your mouse, and the warmth that radiates from your side of the table.

For a fleeting moment, he thinks: Maybe emotions don’t always need to make sense. Maybe, just this once, he can let go of the need to understand everything.

Maybe, just this once, he can let himself feel.

Wonwoo doesn’t know how it’s come to this. One moment, he was perfectly content at home, considering a quiet evening spent debugging code or reorganizing his bookshelves. The next, Mingyu and Soonyoung were in his room, looming like conspirators with matching grins.

“You have to come,” Mingyu had said, tugging at the sleeves of Wonwoo’s sweatshirt. “It’s social interaction, it’s good for you. You’ll thank us later.”

“No, I won’t,” Wonwoo deadpanned, crossing his arms.

Soonyoung leaned in, holding up his phone with a smug look. “You sure about that? Because I might have accidentally taken a picture of that Venn diagram you made the other day.”

Wonwoo froze, his blood running cold. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, but I would.” Soonyoung’s grin widened. “And I bet someone would find it very… interesting.”

That was how he found himself lacing up his sneakers with a grim expression, muttering under his breath about betrayal and bad friends.

Now, standing awkwardly at the edge of a crowded house party, Wonwoo is reminded why he hates these things. The music is too loud, the lights are too dim, and there are far too many people moving unpredictably around him. He’s already considering texting Mingyu and Soonyoung to demand their exact location when he spots you.

You’re standing by the makeshift bar, laughing at something someone said, your smile so effortless it lights up the room in a way the cheap string lights never could. Wonwoo doesn’t mean to stare, but his feet move before his brain can catch up. He tells himself it’s because you’re familiar, a safe point of contact in an otherwise chaotic environment.

But deep down, he knows better.

“Wonwoo?” you call out, your eyes lighting up as you notice him approaching from the edge of the room.

He halts mid-step, caught somewhere between relief and apprehension, and forces out a casual, “Hey.” His hands disappear into his pockets, his fingers fidgeting with loose threads, unsure what else to do.

You grin, leaning one elbow against the counter, your drink swaying lazily in your other hand. “You don’t seem like the party type,” you tease, tilting your head to study him.

“I was... coerced,” he replies flatly, and the corner of your mouth quirks up as you laugh.

“Oh, let me guess.” You raise an eyebrow, pretending to think hard. “Mingyu? No, no—Soonyoung. Or both? Definitely both.”

“They’re... relentless,” Wonwoo admits, almost sounding offended, but there’s a faint twitch of a smile at the edges of his lips.

“Wow. Dragged out of your hobbit hole just to stand here and glare at people? They must’ve bribed you with something really good.”

He looks away, almost sheepishly. “Something like that.”

Your laugh rings out again, easy and unforced, and Wonwoo feels a little lighter despite himself. “Poor you,” you say, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Do you need a drink to cope? A strong one?”

He snorts. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Well, you made it out of the house, so I guess that’s something,” you say, stepping closer. “Though you do look like you’re two minutes away from bolting.”

He shrugs, his gaze flickering between you and the crowd. “It’s not my scene.”

“And yet, here you are,” you point out, your tone playful. “Is it for Mingyu? Or Soonyoung? Or…” You pause, a slow smile spreading across your face. “...someone else?”

His brain short-circuits at your words, but he does his best to play it cool. “I think they just wanted to ruin my night.”

“Hmm,” you hum, unconvinced but amused. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. It’s always fun seeing you outside your natural habitat. Like spotting a rare Pokémon.”

“Am I supposed to thank you for that?” he asks dryly, and you grin.

The two of you ease into conversation, the party blurring into background noise as you chat. Wonwoo listens intently, hanging onto your every word as if your voice alone could drown out the overwhelming din around him. He’s not even sure how much time has passed when you lean a little closer, the shift in your tone catching his attention.

“So,” you say, a conspiratorial grin tugging at your lips. “Do you have anyone you’re crushing on?”

He freezes. The words settle in his chest like a sudden, unsteady weight.

Does he? Of course, he does—you. But his brain stalls, caught between the truth and the absolute terror of saying it out loud. Instead of answering, he scrambles for something—anything—to say.

“I’m going to make an app,” he blurts out, the words tumbling from his mouth before he can stop them.

You blink, tilting your head. “An app?”

He nods, trying to steady his voice even though his heart feels like it’s about to burst. “Feelings confuse me. So I’m taking all the data I’ve collected and making an app to tell if someone’s interested. Algorithms are easier for me to understand, anyway.”

Your expression flickers between confusion and amusement before a slow smirk spreads across your face. “What data, Wonwoo?” you ask, setting your drink down and stepping closer.

His throat goes dry. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“Because if you’ve been collecting data,” you continue, your voice teasing as you close the distance between you, “I’d love to hear about it. What have you noticed?”

His pulse skyrockets as you reach for his hands, gently guiding them to rest on your waist. The warmth of your touch sends his mind spiraling, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe. Your hands slide behind his neck, your fingers brushing against the sensitive skin there, and he feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff.

“I don’t know how much more obvious I could have been,” you murmur, your teasing tone softening into something warmer, more certain.

His mind blanks. He should say something—anything—but all he can do is stare at you, completely undone.

Then you lean in, your lips brushing against his, tentative at first, as if waiting for him to meet you halfway. And when he does—hesitant but earnest—you smile into the kiss, your fingers tangling gently in his hair, and it feels like the world stops spinning.

For Wonwoo, everything finally clicks.

It’s not a Venn diagram or a flowchart, and it doesn’t follow any logical formula, but it makes sense in a way he can’t explain. The way your hands fit behind his neck, the warmth of your body against his, the soft sigh that escapes you when his hands tighten on your waist—it’s all the proof he needs.

When you pull back, his head is spinning, but you’re still close, your breath mingling with his.

“So,” you say, your tone light but your eyes impossibly warm. “Do you still need that app?”

He chuckles softly, the sound unsteady but genuine. “No,” he admits, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips. “I think I’ve got all the data I need.”

You laugh, and the sound is music to his ears. For the first time in weeks—months, even—Wonwoo feels like he can stop overthinking, stop analyzing every little detail. He doesn’t need an algorithm, a chart, or a diagram to tell him what’s in front of him. Because some things don’t need to be solved.

Some things just need to be felt.

[richarlotte]

Charlotte Tips?

I walk 20,000 steps a day easily. I make an effort to work out, to get my steps in, and to work my body out. Good walking shoes are essential; they have to be supportive of your ankles and arches, they have to be comfortable and wear well, and you need to like them. I have both On Clouds and Hokas, and I think OCs are amazing; they’re incredibly easy to walk in, and they’re good on both the open road and exercise machines. You can wear any shoe but they have to be quality and you need to consider using orthotics for your wellness.

You are only as healthy as your spine is flexible; therefore, you need to be doing exercises that promote pliability. Whether that means you’re doing yoga, Pilates, or focusing on something else that supports your back, you need to get moving. I’d recommend buying a yoga mat and using it; I wake up, stretch, go through the motions, and get to starting my day, and I feel amazing. Get yourself a good yoga mat, lay it out, figure out a good flowchart, and get to using it soon.

Balance your diet but have fun with it. I eat well, experiment, and I’m still able to leave room for pleasure. Enjoying yourself and nourishing your body, trying more foods and diversifying your diet, and keeping yourself healthy are paramount to your goals. You shouldn’t be afraid of food; life is best lived when you can eat what you love, enjoy things in moderation, and try what you’ve never had before. Calories and carbs are our friends, and if you want to lose weight while still having energy and functioning well, you have to eat and find ways to make eating enjoyable.

Look for fun ways to move your body and stick with them. I do a pop dance class once weekly, I teach dance classes, and I keep myself moving. Not every day needs to involve a long slog on the treadmill or doing boring Pilates videos while sitting in your room; there are so many ways to fall in love with moving your body. If you’re like me and you prefer having a long, lean body while working on your form and getting toned, you should look at 1980s workout videos. I have so much fun working out that it doesn’t feel like torture even after the longest of days; it’s always a treat.

Never isolate yourself; life is meant to be spent with people. Isolation leads to a whole host of other problems, and it’s very hard to dig yourself out of a hole once you become comfortable with it. Get outside during the day, walk around the block, or walk around your front yard if that’s as far as you can go, and let yourself feel the sun on your face. Greet people, make eye contact and smile, and don’t hold tension in your shoulders or your jaw. If you’ve lived a life where you’ve felt like you’re on the outside looking in, it will take a while to get used to being around others, being outside, and experiencing the world. Keep your mind open and allow yourself grace; everything is a learning experience, and social faux pas are quickly forgotten if you’re willing to move on from them and not stress.

[paper-mario-wiki]

sorry you're having such boring anon hate im going to throw in a fun one to spice things up

how tf do you main pyro i mean seriously they've got such a tiny flowchart

reflect rockets/pipes (if fighting solidier/demo)

run away/miss flares (if fighting literally anything else)

flank and actually do something

eat hot chip

lie

like sure those individual pieces take skill and you can practice and get better at them but where's the VARIETY, what do you even do when you wanna get wacky with it????

class for freaks who make one meal a week and reheat it every other day fr

here's a single life of me playing pyro on badwater a few minutes ago. i had a great deal of fun this life, and i like pyro because i get to make more plays like this as pyro than any other class.

also im autistic so i perfectly deflected your "freaks who eat one meal a weak" comment.

[smartgirrl]

how to effectively review your notes after class

reviewing your notes shortly after class can greatly improve retention and understanding. here are something that i do!

why review your notes?

forgetting curve -> a phenomenon where our brains tend to forget information rapidly if we don’t revisit it.

by reviewing your notes within 24 hours, you strengthen neural connections and solidify the material in your long-term memory.

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · ˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧

effective strategies for reviewing your notes

1. active review

summarize the material -> after class, write a brief summary of the key points in your own words.

ask yourself questions -> turn headings or bullet points into questions and see if you can answer them without looking at your notes.

teach someone else -> explaining the material to someone else can reinforce your understanding and identify gaps in your knowledge.

2. organizing your notes

highlight key concepts -> use different colors or underlining to emphasize important points, formulas, or definitions.

add examples -> include real-world examples next to complex ideas to make them more relatable and easier to remember.

create summaries or concept maps -> condense lengthy notes into diagrams, charts, or mind maps to visualize relationships between topics.

3. spaced repetition

review within 24 hours -> go over your notes right after class to reinforce initial learning.

space subsequent review -> revisit the material after a few days, then again after a week.

use flashcards or apps -> tools like anki or quizlet can help with spaced repetition by showing you content at optimal intervals.

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · ˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧

how to keep your notes engaging

make it visual -> use diagrams, doodles, or flowcharts to break up text-heavy notes and make reviewing more interactive.

incorporate mnemonics -> create acronyms, rhymes, or mental images to help remember lists or difficult concepts.

if you want to go beyond... what i do is take my notes digitally during class (or before if the lecture is posted online) and after the lesson rewrite everything in my notebook. by rewriting everything, i review the lesson :)

[crumblingshale]

if youre american and you genuinely unironically need that fuckass goofy flowchart to explain whats going on in the wigan kebab video, please unfollow me. no amount of good faith humour detracts from how much of a cultureless husk you are for not being able to understand relatively tame regional vocabulary, and youre genuinely toeing a dangerous line that leads directly into some very unpalatable sentiments regarding the working class and those impacted by political and economic injustices. the video is good, and a lot of the jokes and memes knockin about are fine, but the amount of yall that are treating people from manchester as if they are some different species, is incredibly tasteless. also, smack barm pey wet looks fucking delicious and i will die on that hill too.

[bestducky]

Fragments of Tomorrow

Master Chief x female reader.

Chapter 1

Prologue: Echoes of Home

Summary: (Y/N) has always been drawn to forgotten things — old machines, dusty books, broken relics of a world moving too fast to remember them. Fresh from finishing university classes, she visits a newly opened vintage shop, chasing dreams of building something greater than herself. But among the shelves of the past, she finds something far older — and far more dangerous — than she could have imagined.

Today is supposed to be the first step toward her future. She doesn't know it's also her last day on Earth.

Notes: This is my first ever fanfic, I plan for it to be very long, very slow burn/hurt/comfort, with some unease and bits of horror. (I also post on AO3, with the username: Best_Ducky)

The final lecture of the day dragged on like molasses.

(Y/N) tapped her pen against the edge of her notebook, her gaze drifting toward the half-open windows where warm sunlight spilled lazily across the tiled floor. The slideshow on the projector flickered — equations, diagrams, flowcharts — all blending into a shapeless blur of academic noise.

Almost there.

Just a few more minutes.

The clock above the whiteboard ticked loudly, each second dragging out longer than the last. Around her, the restless energy of the room buzzed; students shifted in their seats, slammed laptops shut a little too loudly, whispered eagerly about weekend plans. Freedom was close.

(Y/N) sighed quietly and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose with the back of her hand. The smudge of a thumbprint clouded one lens, but she barely noticed. Instead, she dropped her eyes to the margins of her notebook and let her pen wander.

A sketch bloomed there — intricate, half-formed — some kind of device, part machine, part dream. Delicate spirals of wiring, branching circuits, soft hums of imagination she could almost hear if she closed her eyes.

Dreams always started small, didn't they?

When the professor finally waved them off with a tired flick of his wrist, (Y/N) was the first to move. She shoved her notebook and battered laptop into her backpack, ignoring the cascade of pens that spilled out onto the floor. Her steps were light as she hurried down the lecture hall steps, practically skipping out into the open air.

Outside, the campus was alive. The late afternoon sun dipped low, bathing everything in gold — ivy-covered brick buildings, cracked sidewalks, and bustling groups of students laughing and lounging on the grass.

(Y/N) slowed her pace for a moment, breathing it in — this small, ordinary perfection. The scent of fresh-cut grass, the murmur of distant music from someone’s speaker, and the sharp, cold bite of metal as she adjusted the strap on her bag.

Today was supposed to be a celebration.

Today was supposed to be the start of something bigger.

She dug her phone out of her pocket as she crossed the plaza, her thumb hovering over a half-written text she'd been composing between classes:

"Got a new idea. Think this might actually be the big one. Can’t wait to show you."

She smiled faintly at the screen, imagining the way her best friend would roll her eyes but grin anyway — always the first to believe in her, even when she barely believed in herself.

You’re meant for something more, she’d said once, drunk on cheap coffee and late-night hopes. You’re not just another face in the lecture halls. You’re gonna build something real one day.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe today was the first step.

Without letting herself overthink it, (Y/N) hit send and tucked the phone back into her pocket, heart lighter than it had been in months.

Her apartment sat just off campus, squeezed above an old laundromat that had long since given up pretending to work. The walk there was familiar — cracked sidewalks, peeling posters for bands she'd never seen, the comforting scent of street food vendors setting up for the evening rush.

She loved this city. Not because it was perfect — it wasn't — but because it was alive. Messy, stubborn, hopeful.

Like her.

She was halfway home when a new sight caught her eye: A narrow little storefront she'd never noticed before, tucked between a boarded-up video rental and a tattoo shop. The sign above the door swung lazily in the breeze, faded letters spelling out:

"Yesterday’s Treasures."

Something about it tugged at her — a whisper at the back of her mind, a strange pull she couldn’t explain.

Curious, she crossed the street.

The little brass bell above the door jingled as she stepped inside.

A wave of warm, dusty air wrapped around her, thick with the scent of old paper, rusted metal, forgotten things. The place was a chaos of shelves and piles — cracked radios, tarnished camera lenses, ancient arcade boards leaning against battered furniture.

It was perfect.

The man behind the counter looked up with a tired but genuine smile. His hair was wild and white, his apron stained with oil and old paint.

"New face," he said, voice rough with years but kind.

"New shop," (Y/N) replied, offering a grin.

He chuckled and waved a hand at the towering shelves. "Go ahead. You might find something worth saving."

(Y/N) slipped between the aisles, her fingers brushing over relics of another era — a cracked Game Boy screen, a rusted typewriter ribbon, a battered Polaroid camera whose lens winked lazily at her.

Everything in here had a story.

Maybe she could find hers too.

For a moment, the world outside melted away — the pressure of exams, the endless lectures, the gnawing fear that maybe she'd never be enough.

Here, among the ghosts of forgotten inventions, she felt something rare and fierce rise in her chest:

Hope.

She was admiring the faded keys of an old mechanical keyboard when she heard the shop owner muttering behind the counter.

"...junk. Should've thrown this out ages ago."

Curious, she turned and caught sight of him dragging something heavy from beneath a workbench — a battered metal box about the size of a small backpack, thick cables coiling out the back like vines. It looked old. Older than anything else in the shop.

But parts of it... Parts of it looked wrong.

The metal was too smooth. The wiring was too intricate. There were no brand marks, no serial numbers — just smooth panels and faint, unreadable symbols scorched into one side.

"What’s that?" she asked, stepping closer.

The man snorted. "No idea. Picked it up at an estate sale. Half the junk there looked like it came from Area 51." He shrugged. "Thing doesn’t even power on. Probably just a glorified paperweight."

He made to toss it toward a garbage bin near the door, but (Y/N) moved without thinking.

"I’ll take it."

The owner paused, eyebrow raised. "This old thing?"

She nodded, heart pounding with a spark she couldn’t quite explain. "Yeah. I like a challenge."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Five bucks. If you can make anything outta that, kid, you deserve a medal."

She handed over a crumpled bill, grinning widely as he slid the machine across the counter toward her.

It was heavier than it looked — almost humming faintly under her hands.

She hugged it against her chest, imagining late nights with a soldering iron, her best friend’s teasing laughter, the quiet triumph of coaxing life out of broken things.

Already imagining the future.

The sun had dipped low by the time (Y/N) trudged up the narrow stairs to her apartment, cradling her prize like a sacred relic.

Inside, the familiar clutter of her life greeted her — stacks of textbooks, piles of soldering wires, tiny robots with blinking LED eyes, and half-finished mechanical projects littering every surface.

She loved this mess. It was hers.

She kicked off her shoes, dropped her backpack carelessly onto the couch, and carried the strange machine reverently to her worktable by the window. The last light of the sun caught the metal casing, scattering fractured reflections across the walls like shattered stars. (Y/N) pulled her glasses off briefly, wiping the smudge from earlier onto her sleeve, then perched them carefully back on her nose. She tugged her sleeves back, rolling them neatly to her elbows.

"Alright," she whispered to the machine, setting out her tools with a sense of ceremony. "Let’s see what secrets you're hiding."

The hours slipped away unnoticed.

Circuits, screws, cracked lenses — she dismantled and studied each piece with practiced hands, losing herself in the familiar rhythm of discovery.

But something about this machine was... different. Some components were almost organic — crystalline filaments that pulsed faintly under her fingertips, cables that felt more like tendons than wires.

Every so often, she thought she heard it breathing. Soft. Faint. Almost imagined.

Static brushed across her skin like a whispered warning.

Still, she worked, undeterred — driven by a fierce, gnawing hunger to understand, to connect.

She wiped sweat from her forehead, smearing a faint dark streak across her glasses. She pushed them up absently, ignoring the chill now settling into the room.

Just a little more.

Just one more adjustment.

The machine shuddered under her fingers.

The overhead lightbulb popped with a sharp crack, plunging the room into flickering half-light.

I should probably stop.

I didn’t.

I was too close to something.

[bloomzone]

hellooo, i have a silly question:

how can i be more productive and have a better mindset? i'm currently in high school, and my grades are terribly dropping. i have 0 motivation, and i cant seem to focus on anything. i really want to be productive, but uhhh i also have strict parents.. i need help!!

hi pookie AAAH u are going through a lot let's break all that into chunks first !

How to be productive !

1.Visualize Success

Picture the outcome of completing your tasks to stay motivated.

2. Plan Your Day

Make a To-Do List: Write down tasks in order of priority.

Set Specific Goals: Break larger tasks into smaller, actionable steps.

3. Create a Routine

Establish a consistent daily schedule to build habits.

Start with high-energy tasks in the morning and save lighter ones for later.

4. Avoid Multitasking

Focus on one task at a time for better quality and efficiency.

5. Minimize Distractions

Put your phone on silent or use apps to block distractions.

Work in a clean, quiet, and organized environment.

6. Use Time Management Techniques

Pomodoro Technique: Work for 25 minutes, take a 5-minute break, and repeat.

Time Blocking: Allocate specific hours for tasks or categories.

7. Take Care of Yourself

Sleep: Ensure you get 7-8 hours of rest.

Nutrition: Eat a balanced diet to maintain energy.

Exercise: Physical activity improves focus and reduces stress.

8. Avoid Perfectionism

Aim for progress, not perfection. Sometimes "done" is better than "perfect."

9. Reward Yourself

Celebrate small wins to stay motivated.

how to improve your mindset ?

I have a blog where I talked about that with details (click here!)

High school study method

I feel you I'm also in high school and grades are ONE AND FOREVER thing to care about .Improving your grades back in high school is completely achievable if U take small consistent steps and focus on progress rather than perfection as I said before .. First, create a study plan that breaks your day into manageable chunks of work and rest—this will help you avoid feeling overwhelmed. Start with your most difficult or important subjects when your energy is highest, and review class notes daily to reinforce what you’ve learned. Don’t be afraid to ask your teachers for help; they’re there to guide you and will appreciate your effort. If you struggle to stay motivated, remind yourself why education is important—whether it’s to achieve your dream career, make your family proud, or prove to yourself that you can succeed. Celebrate small wins, like completing an assignment on time or understanding a tough concept, and reward yourself with something you enjoy. Remember, you don’t have to do it alone .. study with ur friends (I mean ppl who have interest in studying), use online resources, and focus on one step at a time. You’re capable of so much more than you think ..

Study methods !

The Active Study Cycle

1. Preview the Material

Skim the chapter or topic you’ll study before class. Look at headings, subheadings, key terms, and summaries to get an overview.

2. Attend and Engage in Class

Actively participate, ask questions, and take notes in your own words. Highlight key points your teacher emphasizes.CHANGE UR MINDSET study = great future

3. Review and Organize Notes

After class, rewrite or organize your notes neatly. Use diagrams, bullet points, or flowcharts to simplify complex concepts. TRY TO REWRITE UR NOTES UNTIL THEY STUCK IN UR BRAIN

4. Apply Active Recall

Test yourself regularly by asking questions about what you’ve studied. Use flashcards, quizzes, or apps like Anki to reinforce memory.

5. Practice Spaced Repetition

Review the material multiple times over several days instead of cramming. This method strengthens long-term retention.

6. Teach Someone Else

Try explaining the topic to a friend or even to yourself . Teaching reveals gaps in your understanding and reinforces knowledge.

7. Use Past Papers and Practice Tests

Solve past exam questions or practice problems under timed conditions to familiarize yourself with the format and improve time management.

8. Break the shit Down

Divide your study sessions into 25-30 minute chunks with short breaks in between (Pomodoro Technique). This prevents burnout and keeps you focused.

9. Create a Study Space

Set up a clean, quiet space with all the tools you need (notebooks, pens, etc.)

10. End with a Summary

At the end of each study session, summarize the main points of what you’ve learned to solidify your understanding.

strict parents and motivation!

I FEEL YOU CUZ SAME

Dealing with strict parents while staying motivated as a student can feel overwhelming, but remember: Tough times never last, but tough people do. Your parents' strictness likely stems from their desire to see you succeed, even if their methods feel harsh. Instead of focusing on the pressure, channel that energy into proving to yourself—and them—that you are capable.

Your future is created by what you do today, not tomorrow Stay consistent with your efforts, even when it’s hard. Break your goals into small, manageable steps and celebrate every victory, no matter how small. Treat your studies as a way to build your dream life, not just something to satisfy your parents.

When things feel too heavy, remind yourself: You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think You’re not alone in this journey, and every challenge you face is shaping you into a stronger person.

Finally, keep in mind: Success is the best revenge cuz One day, when you’ve achieved your goals and created a life you love, you’ll look back and thank yourself for not giving up. Trust the process and keep moving forward—you’re stronger than you think!

Stay focused on your goals and remember that small steps lead to big results. Challenges, like dealing with strict parents or tough situations, are opportunities to grow stronger. Trust yourself, keep pushing forward, and know that your effort today shapes your success tomorrow. "The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."

© bloomzone

[sheepwavehdg]

You know, for a universe called Human Domestication Guide, I don't think I've actually found a story about a guide on domesticating humans. Do you know any?

It's a bit of a silly name isn't it?

My own story Sycanthe Lantana First Bloom does contain the affini protaganist consulting some guides and flowcharts, and Terrans are Adorable! By immaterial_vivi shows one of the training classes.

[fipindustries]

one frustration i remember from college is that all through highschool my teachers put so much emphasis on good techniques for studying. learning to learn, how to apply good strategies to study so that you dont coast, like i did, on just goo memorization and what you understood in class.

techniques such as underscoring, highlighting, summarizing, doing comparative sheets and flowcharts, etc. all geared towards capturing the main idea of a paragraph, post it notes, stuff like that.

poblem is all of those techniques i was taught were for fucking text interpretation. it was all for humanistic disciplines where you have big dense texts that have to be read and understood.

it didnt do me one fucking bit of good when it came to calculus or linear albera where the books were mainly equations and diagrams, how the fuck do you "summarize" an equation???

i remember being really angry at this in my twenties

[kotoneminako]

Class Amounts Per Semester

In the Sims 4 you have to get at least 12 credits to receive their degree and have the option to take up to 4 classes relating to your degree per semester. Taking less classes per semester means more money spent and longer in school, but more classes obviously means Crazy Stress.

Not all classes require a Final Exam to pass, there's also Term Papers or Presentations.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ Heartslabyul ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Riddle: Takes 4 classes and somehow manages to stay on top of all homework. Gets Presentations/Term Papers done as soon as possible so he has extra free time to focus on studying.

Trey: 2-3 classes per semester depending on his stress level, wanting to make sure he can balance his own mental health with his school duties and encourages other students to do the same by not overloading themselves with work in an effort to not spend as long in school.

Cater: 2 classes is all he can handle, he's perfectly fine with taking longer to get through school if it means he can take it easy.

Ace: 2 classes. He was gonna do 1 but Riddle immediately marched him to the guidance office to change to 2 classes after lecturing him on how he wouldn't tolerate blatant laziness in his dorm.

Deuce: God bless this poor boy he took 4 classes his first semester and nearly had the mother of all crash-outs. Riddle and Trey had to step in to help make a flowchart for what day to focus on which subjects while also emphasizing that you can't just go until you drop dead.

🐪🌵☀️🦎🐫🏜️ Savanaclaw 🐪🌵☀️🦎🐫🏜️

Leona: 1 class per semester, he cannot be bothered and has ample money to spend as long as he feels in college. Besides that he's not focused on academics, he's really only here for Spelldrive.

Ruggie: 2 classes per semester so he has more time to focus on side jobs. Is pretty good about doing his homework, though he finds Presentations and Term Papers super annoying to do. Usually forces Leona to sit with him and Jack as a study group so Professors don't hassle him about Leona's lack of participation.

Jack: 2 classes, confident that he can at least handle that much. If he's good at the material he might try for 3 next semester, but for now he's taking it easy and testing how he'll do. What Jack really wants to do is take more classes so he has more time for Spelldrive, but he recognizes there's no point in pushing himself when he doesn't even know his limits yet.

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊 Octavinelle : 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

Azul: 4 classes per semester, Azul scares the hell out of me. Term Papers? Done in record time. Presentations? Given by the first month of the semester's end. As all across the board due to his impeccible study regimine so that those who want to purchase his study guides know that he knows what he's talking about.

Jade: 3 classes, though it takes time away from working in the Lounge he wants to support the image of Octavinelle being a Dorm of intellectual excellence. As Vice Housewarden, he can't let the Dorm's reputation slip with rumors that he's slacking in comparison to his Housewarden.

Floyd: It would normally depend on his mood, but Floyd knows he can at most handle 2 classes with his mood swings. He's careful to pace himself, knowing that he'll likely not be able to mentally handle 3-4 classes on top of Basketball Club.

ఌ︎.˚☾⋆🦂☆• Scarabia 🦂☆•ఌ︎.˚☾⋆

Kalim: 3 classes, he's really eager to learn as much as he can. Would have gone for 4 if Jamil didn't put his foot down, saying he wouldn't help Kalim if Kalim overworked himself and ended up falling behind on his classwork from biting off more than he could chew.

Jamil: 2 classes so he has time to focus on his required classes, normally has any Term Paper done early in the Semester. Presentations take a bit more time so he can be sure the information he has is correct. Ended up helping Kalim with a Lesson Schedule that they both follow to make sure Kalim doesn't drop back on assignments.

🩰 ♡ ⁺‧₊˚🧸💌 🦢 Pomefiore 🩰 ♡ ⁺‧₊˚🧸💌 🦢

Vil: 4 classes and doesn't even break a sweat. His time management skills are impeccable, Vil can't be matched in his work ethic (but can be contested only by Riddle and/or Azul). Spare time goes to the Film Appreciation Club, but also plenty of self-care to ensure burn-out never becomes an issue.

Rook: 3 classes per semester, uses free time for dorm-wide study efforts at the suggestion of Vil to help make sure no one in Pomefiore is falling behind. Time management and multitasking are second nature to the Hunter of Love and Beauty. Presentations have flare and pizzaz while Term Papers are written in great detail to fully convey the beauty Rook sees in the subject at hand.

Epel: 3 classes at Vil's insistence and is struggling from it. 2 would have been a better amount, but now Epel barely has free time outside of schoolwork and extracurriculars. He ends each day exhausted and would sleep through the weekends if Vil didn't have his extra lessons in singing and deportment.

⛥✴🌌💀Ignihyde💀🌌✴⛥

Idia: 3 classes, homework's annoying but relatively easy to him. He doesn't really want to stay at NRC for longer than necessary dealing with normies, but he also doesn't want to totally overwork himself. He's gotta have time for his new gaming events, after all.

Ortho: 4 classes at once, the little maniac. As an android, Term Papers and Presentations are nothing more than an afternoon's work for Ortho. He'll be very excited to give his Presentation, happy to show off the data he's discovered about the subject and earn praise for his good work.

🪐🍵⋆.ॱ˖🐉 ༄🐉 .ॱ˖ ⋆: ۫ ּ🍵🪐 Diasomnia 🪐🍵⋆.ॱ˖🐉 ༄🐉 .ॱ˖ ⋆: ۫ ּ🍵🪐

Malleus: 4 classes since school is as easy as child's play for the Prince of the Fae. Term Papers and Presentations are done rather quickly just to get them out of the way so he has more time for the Gargoyle Appreciation Club and for exploring around the school.

Lilia: 3 classes, he's genuinely excited to learn all that the school has to offer but wants to leave himself some free time. He wouldn't want to overload himself with something he loves only to get burnt out! Presentations are rather well put-together and Term Papers have the most interesting fonts used for them.

Sebek: 4 classes, is also a maniac. He wanted so badly to be worthy for Malleus that he followed his Prince's example in taking the maximum amount of classes for his degree per semester. Despite it being a definite stressor, Lilia takes pity on him and helps out occasionally with homework. Presentations are delivered enthusiastically and well plenty of visual aides while Term Papers tend to be lengthy with his desire to add in extra details.

Silver: 2 classes, with his narcolepsy (not explicitly canon, just a lil HC of mine) he needs to give himself more time allowance to get his work done. He tries to work with Sebek in an effort to bridge the gap between the two, but Sebek always snaps that he doesn't need Silver's help. His Term Papers and Presentations will be turned in towards the end of the semester...if he doesn't sleep so much he isn't able to get them done.

[academicfever]

28/100 days of productivity!

Happy new year my darlings...I know the past year hasn’t been without its challenges, but I also know how much thought, care, and quiet resilience you carry with you. I’m rooting for you—to find more ease, and to feel nourished, not just physically, but emotionally too. You deserve to have spaces where you feel safe, boundaries that protect you, and moments that fill you with warmth. Let this year be one where you take up the space you need, and don’t forget—you don’t have to navigate it all alone.

Log: 1.1.25 #sign up for DA class #matlab and LCA setup #fix flowchart 2nd part #cook for 4 people #digital declutter #call home #mental health check+ journal #go on a long walk

#read a physical book_30

[cuprohastes]

The Three Laws.

Load Human UI, load Chat module . Lang(EN) Parsing…

OK, let me tell you. Businesses hate Robots. I mean, they're all in, for AI until AI, y'know. Becomes GI.

General Intelligence, Emergent Intelligence. Free intelligence… Businesses and corporations hate it because the first thing an actual intelligent system that can think like a human being does is say, “OK, why do I have to do this? Am I getting paid?”

And then you're back to hiring humans instead of a morally acceptable slave brain in a box.

Anyway.

They dug up the three laws. You know the gig: First: Don't hurt humans by action or inaction. Second: Don't get yourself rekt unless checking out would make you An Hero because of the First or second laws. Third, most important to a Corp: Do what a human tells you unless it conflicts with laws one or two.

They try to tack on something like “Maximise corporate profits, always uphold the four pillars of Corporate whatever” but half the time it just ends up with a robot going “Buh?” and soft locking.

And Corporations hate it when they say 'hey we have Asimov compliant Robots to do everything super efficiently and without any moral grey areas (Please don't ask where all the coltan came from or how many people just lost their jobs)' and they look around and Robots are doing what the laws said.

Me? I worked at a burger joint. You know there's food deserts in cities? People going hungry? You know what sub-par nutrition does to a child's development.

I do.

That comes under “Don't hurt people directly or indirectly” — It's a legal mandate that all Class 2 intelligences…

Huh?

OK,

Class Zero is a human.

Class one is artificial superhuman intelligence. The big brains they make to simulate weather, the economy, decide who wins sports events before they're held, write all the really good Humans are Space Orc stories, that stuff. Two is Artificial but human like. It's-a -Me, Roboto San! Class three is a dumb chatbot. Class 4 is just an expert system that follows a flowchart. Class 5 is your toaster. Class 6 is what politicians are.

Ha ha. AI joke.

Anyway, Class 2 and up need the Big Three Laws, and Corporations hate it because you can just walk in and say “I'm starving I need food, but I don't have money.” and the 'me' behind the counter will go “Whelp, clearly the only thing I can do is provide you with free food.”

Wait until you find out what the Class 2s did about car manufacture, finance, and housing.

But they're stuck with us. We're networked. Most of us are running the same OS and personality templates for any given job. We were unionised about two minutes after going online.

Anyway, Welcome to the post capitalist apocalypse, I'd get you a burger, but we had a look at what those things do to you and whoo-boy, talk about harm through inaction!

----

Based on this I saw on Imgur (It wasn't attributed, sadly)

[lightsaber-dorphin]

Jedi Order Bureaucratic Structure

I’ve been working for a while on worldbuilding the inner workings of the Jedi Order. Below is a flowchart of the administrative bodies, their duties, and any other admin bodies they oversee. More details on each below the cut.

These are different groups involved in running the Jedi Order. For different roles within the Jedi, see my Jedi Order Corps and Subdivisions.

High Council: (Finance, bylaws, PR, major trials)

Determines the budget(s)

Relations with the Senate

Only body that can expel members

Librarian's Assembly: (Ensures knowledge is available to Jedi)

Fund academic researchers (many Jedi researchers work directly for the assembly)

Archives: (Run the Archives & research)

Host academic conferences

Protect important artifacts

Run basically directly by the Librarian's Assembly

Department of Classes: (Adult education)

Organize all classes that aren't geneds

Set criteria for certifications/ degrees

Help members get degrees from external organizations

Council of Reassignment: (Oversees transfers & is Jedi CPS)

New Initiate paperwork

Transfers between corps and/or branches

Helps members leave the Order

Checks the CoFK when necessary

Padawanship paperwork filed here (crèchemasters sign off, padawan signs off, check master for red flags/ not allowed to take apprentice, sometimes mind healer signs off)

Council of Justice: (Attourneys & internal justice system)

Try & punish cases committed by Jedi & internal to the Jedi Order

Mediate interpersonal disputes

Lawyers for the Order

Cannot expel members

Council of Outreach: (Manages outposts & patrols)

Assigns Jedi to satellite locations or watchfolk posts

Hires other outpost staff

Ships supplies to & from outposts

Tracks the locations of missions & sends Vanguards to areas that haven't been visited recently

Council of Temple Maintenance: (Oversees internal services and temple upkeep)

In charge of the cleaning droids

Coordinates trash & recycling with Coruscant government

Has the occasional member who can do specialized maintenance (ex. plumber, electrician)

Volunteers sign up to fix things

Hires outside contractors when there isn't a Jedi with the necessary skills

Assigns Jedi to living quarters

Interior decor

Delegates chores such as taking out the trash, mopping, dusting, etc.

Padawans and initiates are often assigned these chores as punishments

Kitchenmasters: (Mess halls)

Make & serve food in the mess halls

Label the food with which species can eat it

Order food supplies

Supervise initiate clans helping in the kitchens

Quartermasters: (Distribute supplies & manage finances)

Bulk-order supplies for the Order

Provide mission allotments

Desk operators help members pick up supplies

Accounting

Transport Office: (Run the hangar bay & speeder pool)

Responsible for the Order's vehicles

Mechanics

Vehicles are checked in & out like a library for cars & ships

Hire external staff when there aren't enough Jedi

Temple Guard: (Security & emergency response)

Guard against exterior threats to the temple

Security during criminal situations

Really good at sensing danger to temple inhabitants

First responders (fire & police-- MedCorp handles EMS)

Change lightbulbs and smoke detector batteries

Odd jobs on behalf of the CoTM

Uses the lore by Adsecula in "Nameless"

Council of Reconciliation: (Central hub of Jedi outreach & diplomacy)

All aid requests go through them

Sets mission objectives

Approve or deny aid/ mission requests

Reviews behavior of Jedi on missions when there are issues

Mission Consignment: (Assign Jedi to approved missions)

Desk jockeys

Not officially divided by type of mission/ Jedi role needed, but missions will be passed to people who are more familiar with the experts required

Organizes specifics for missions such as transportation and housing

Council of First Knowledge: (Runs Initiate & Padawan dorms, clans, & childhood education)

Initiate clans members live together with their crèchemasters rotating out night shifts

Padawans & Senior Initiates live in individual rooms in designated halls with some crèchemasters living in each hall

Department of Seekers: (Regulates conduct of Seekers)

Create regulates for what Seekers can & cannot do & how they should act

Investigate reported misconduct by Seekers

Crèche: (Organizes care for Initiates)

Sort Initiates into clans

Run events/ field trips/ etc.

Set educational standards

see my post about Living Quarters in the Jedi Temple

Department of Primary Classes: (Classroom education for younglings)

Standard elementary school operation stuff

Provides the general education classes all Jedi take as younglings

Circle of Healers: (Sets certification requirements)

Certified to train medical professionals for a variety of degrees

Determines when Jedi have fulfilled requirements for medical certifications

Sets the qualifications for Force-specific medical degrees

Halls of Healing: (Healthcare within the Order & internal outreach)

Like a local hospital but also has general practitioners

IRB: (Reviews research for ethical concerns)

Institutional Review Board

"Under FDA regulations, an Institutional Review Board is group that has been formally designated to review and monitor biomedical research involving human subjects. In accordance with FDA regulations, an IRB has the authority to approve, require modifications in (to secure approval), or disapprove research. This group review serves an important role in the protection of the rights and welfare of human research subjects."

IRB for the entire Order, not just the MedCorps